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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23662369">Waves of Change</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AThousandWishes/pseuds/AThousandWishes'>AThousandWishes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Waves of Change Universe [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 23:48:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>35,948</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23662369</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AThousandWishes/pseuds/AThousandWishes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Ripples...There are consequences to Bruce's actions, but he cannot even begin to comprehend it...and maybe it's not as bad as it seems.  But it's complicated and messy and not everything goes smoothly, especially for the rest of the Bat family!</p><p>This fanfic is REALLY old!  Years old (like around 15 years old)...and UNFINISHED!  Not sure what I plan to do with it for now.  I may decide to pick it back up eventually.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Waves of Change Universe [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1703761</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue and Chapter 1:  Breakwater</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Waves of Change </p><p>(sequel to Ripples) </p><p>Prologue </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The volume on the flat screen television rose, filling the room with the day’s latest news.  A beautiful redhead was reporting with an almost tangible sadness in her voice, in spite of the incredible details she was relating to her audience.  The man holding the TV remote control knew of the woman’s connection to the story.  She had landed more interviews with Bruce Wayne than any other reporter, outside of Clark Kent and Lois Lane.  Of course at one time, the paparazzi had even speculated at a possible romance between the billionaire and reporter.  Slowly, the man lowered himself down to sit on the couch directly across from the screen and listened to the report. </p><p> </p><p>“Our top story tonight is a bittersweet drama that began only a few months ago.  Sketchy details were given in regards to the apparent death of billionaire Bruce Wayne’s adopted son, Richard Grayson.  The young rookie police officer left on an urgent and unannounced trip to Cambodia.  Tragically, his plane crashed in the rough mountainous terrain of the region.  No bodies were ever recovered in the fiery crash. </p><p> </p><p>Now only two weeks after the memorial service for Grayson, Bruce Wayne set off to find more answers surrounding his son’s death.  In an ironic twist of fate, Wayne’s own private jet crashed over the Atlantic Thursday afternoon.  The pilot sent out a distress call when the fuel suddenly bottomed out apparently moments before the jet plummeted into the water.  Investigators say that the small jet would have been torn to pieces on impact.  Wayne and two pilots are believed to have perished, their remains unfound. </p><p> </p><p>But the most unbelievable episode in this story is just now unfolding.  The same day Gotham’s beloved philanthropist died, his son Richard Grayson was found alive in a small village in Cambodia.  The young man had apparently survived his ordeal by parachuting out when his pilot suffered a massive heart attack.  When asked his reason for being in Cambodia in the first place, Grayson responded he was there to find his brother...not by relation, but adoption. </p><p> </p><p>A teenage Cambodian girl, who claimed to be the nanny of Bruce Wayne’s five-year-old son, contacted Grayson.  The child’s mother, Dr. Mary Thomas, died a month earlier while serving as a missionary doctor in the region.  Not wanting his adoptive father to be hurt if the claim was unfounded, Grayson traveled to Cambodia to investigate the matter. </p><p> </p><p>According to the sole heir of Wayne Enterprises, he is now not alone in his inheritance.  The boy has turned out to indeed be the biological son of Bruce Wayne.  Grayson was visibly shaken over the news of his adopted father’s untimely and tragic death.  But he said that he is grateful that he now has a brother to share in the Wayne legacy.  Tomorrow, the young man, who is now the fourth richest man in the world, will be coming back home to Gotham with his little brother in tow. </p><p> </p><p>Reporting in Gotham City, I’m Summer Gleason…” </p><p> </p><p>Hitting the mute button, the man stood up and walked away from the couch toward the large windows behind the massive desk.  Narrowing his eyes, he muttered, “So the legacy did not end after all.  No matter.  I’ve been in this game longer than Wayne’s brat.  I’ll still have what I want.”  Turning, he called, “Mercy!  Get me Talia Head on the phone now!” </p><p> </p><p>********** </p><p> </p><p>Breakwater </p><p>Chapter One </p><p> </p><p>The little boy ran through the green field, dotted with bright yellow and white flowers.  His laughter echoed on the wind as he tumbled softly onto the ground and then bounced back up to run again. </p><p> </p><p>After a few precious moments alone, he found a playmate.  She was a beautiful, young woman dressed all in white and wore a pearl necklace.  Her shiny, dark hair blew gently in the breeze as her blue eyes sparkled in merriment.  Immediately the little boy knew she was an angel sent straight from Heaven.  He reached out and grabbed her hand.  She smiled sweetly down at him.  They laughed in innocent delight and continued to romp through the field. </p><p> </p><p>But the peace was soon broken.  The ground began to shake and tall, grimy buildings grew out of the earth, reaching for the darkening sky.  The little boy’s heart pounded in his chest and his angel hugged him protectively to her side.  A shadowy figure emerged from a dark alley.  The boy saw a fiery gun in the mysterious man’s hands.  The evil man pulled the hammer back.  The gun cocked with a loud snap. </p><p> </p><p>Suddenly, Zorro leaped out in front of the little boy and the angel, placing himself between them and the gunman.  The dashing hero swished his sword in an intricate display of skill.  Then Zorro pulled the angel into his arms and kissed her deeply.  She blushed slightly as she gently swatted the masked man away.  Turning to the little boy, Zorro winked in happy confidence, before facing his foe. </p><p> </p><p>A warm glow of security settled over the boy.  They were going to be safe and live happily ever… </p><p> </p><p>**BOOM!** </p><p> </p><p>The little boy watched in horror as Zorro fell to the ground.  His hero was dead. </p><p> </p><p>**BOOM!  BOOM!** </p><p> </p><p>Again, to his horror, he watched his beautiful angel fall to the ground as her pearls spilled out onto the muddy alley floor.  Now his angel was gone, too. </p><p> </p><p>The little boy felt tears run down his cheeks, as he turned his eyes on the armed man.  Slowly, the man began to approach him.  The gun was mere inches from his forehead.  Closing his eyes, the boy wondered if it would hurt much. </p><p> </p><p>Almost instantaneously, a whoosh of wind knocked him to the ground.  Eyes popped opened.  A black shadow covered the gunman, who was shrieking and screaming in horror.  An instant later the alley was deathly silent.  Afraid yet curious, the little boy tentatively moved toward the shadow.  As the small hand touched the blackness, it whirled around and enveloped him into nothingness… </p><p> </p><p>*************** </p><p> </p><p>“No!”  Little feet hit the floor and raced out of the room, continuing to pad swiftly down the hall.  Finally reaching the door to the master bedroom, the small child made a running start and leaped onto the foot of the humongous bed.  “Daddy!” </p><p> </p><p>Dick Grayson barely had time to wake up fully before two small arms wrapped around his neck.  “Bruce?  Wha…what’s the matter?” </p><p> </p><p>“Daddy, I’m scared,” the young boy moaned, his grip tightening. </p><p> </p><p>“Shh…hey it’s okay, big guy.  It was only a dream.  You’re safe now,” Dick soothed, realizing the cause of the child’s fears.   After all, these nightmares had been quite frequent over the last month.  Gently patting the boy’s back, Dick gazed over at his beautiful bed partner, who began to sit up.  Babs had been a lifesaver, moving into Wayne Manor to help him with the overwhelming task of raising a very young and frightened Bruce Wayne. </p><p> </p><p>**************** </p><p> </p><p>Barbara Gordon pushed herself up into a sitting position and yawned.  According to the clock, it was 4:07 Tuesday morning.  Third time this week her sleep was interrupted by a screaming child.  She knew that Bruce was confused and scared.  Who wouldn’t be in his situation?  At age 8, the first time around, Bruce had witnessed his parents’ murder.  Then he had worked determinedly to become the World’s Greatest Detective and   Gotham’s protector, Batman.  As the Dark Knight, he had seen his fair share of horrors and experienced some of the worst deals life could hand out.  But the most horrible of all was the death of his son. </p><p> </p><p>Not Jason.  Although, that was a terrible time for Bruce…one he almost could not endure.  But when he lost Dick, it was as if his whole world had shattered.  At the time, Barbara did not realize just how much Bruce leaned on his oldest son for support.  Besides, she was so consumed in her own grief that she did not even notice or acknowledge anyone else’s pain…until later. </p><p> </p><p>Remembering back, Barbara could see it all so very clearly.  She was on her couch.  Her father was in the kitchen, cooking a meal that would never be eaten.  The phone rang.  Lifelessly, she picked it up. </p><p> </p><p>“Hello.” </p><p> </p><p>“Miss Gordon?  I am terribly sorry to disturb you, but I need some assistance.”  Alfred’s clear British tones could not hide his distress. </p><p> </p><p>“What do you need?” </p><p> </p><p>“Master Bruce…you see, he has gone off…in the Batwing.  I have been unable to boost the signal to reach him.  I would not have disturbed you, but under the circumstances I believe it best to contact him immediately.” </p><p> </p><p>“Alfred…I…”  Barbara felt hot tears tumbling down her cheeks.  How could Bruce go out tonight?  His own son’s funeral had been that very day!  On top of that news, Alfred was asking her to do the same.  Go back to living life, as if nothing had changed.  She could not and would not do that.  She was not even sure if she could ever go back to working as Oracle again.  The memories alone would be too much to bear.  “No.” </p><p> </p><p>“Pardon me?”  The tone was very soft and questioning. </p><p> </p><p>“I said, ‘No.’  Alfred, I’m sorry.  I just can’t do it.  Goodbye.”  She hung up the phone quickly before breaking down into sobs.  She spent the rest of that night on the couch, lingering between tears of grief and restless sleep.  Unknown to her, the morning would bring dramatic changes. </p><p> </p><p>The phone rang again as the first rays of light shone into the clock tower.  Her father answered it this time. </p><p> </p><p>“Hello…good morning, Alfred…yes, she’s awake…”  Jim looked cautiously over at his daughter.  “…what kind of news?”  After a little wait, he smiled and then said, “In that case, we’re on our way!” </p><p> </p><p>Watching her father hang up the phone, Barbara curiously asked, “What’s that all about?” </p><p> </p><p>Kneeling down beside his daughter and taking her hands, he said, “He’s alive, sweetheart!  Dick’s alive!” </p><p> </p><p>The rest of that day and the weeks to follow were a whirlwind of events.  She arrived at the Manor and was swept up into the arms of her love immediately.  Both Dick and Barbara held onto each other tightly.  Only after their reunion was over did Barbara ask about Bruce. </p><p> </p><p>Dick’s eyes turned sad.  “He’s…” </p><p> </p><p>“You said it was the Lazarus Pit and you’re both still alive.  Right?  That is what you said?”  Barbara’s voice was laced with concern. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh yes!  Bruce is alive.  He’s just…different.” </p><p> </p><p>“Different how?” </p><p> </p><p>Sighing Dick explained, “Bruce made a deal to enter the pit with my body.  Apparently, Ra’s has gotten senile in his old age and forgot who he was playing mind games with…”  Shaking his head, he continued, “Before going into the pit, Bruce cut himself.”  Dick indicated his wrists.  “Now in order to bring someone back that had been dead for a while, Ra’s had added in special chemicals to boost the mystic powers.  So someone who had been dead a week or more would come back alive and healed.  However, someone who was only fatally wounded and not quite dead…well, we found out that the pit is definitely the fountain of youth.” </p><p> </p><p>“What are you saying, Dick?  That Bruce has been…” </p><p> </p><p>“De-aged,” Dick answered. </p><p> </p><p>“How young?”  She asked, not sure she wanted to know the answer. </p><p> </p><p>“Well…according to Bruce’s old growth chart that Alfred found in the attic, we’ve estimated around five.” </p><p> </p><p>Barbara felt her mouth drop open.  Finally she managed to sputter, “Five years old?” </p><p> </p><p>Dick nodded his head slowly.  “He’s very confused.  There are things he remembers and things he doesn’t.  He calls me ‘daddy’ and when I correct him, he’ll say, ‘yeah, that’s right.’  But he did recognize Alfred and he knew about Batman somewhat.  Just…it’s all muddled up, you know?” </p><p> </p><p>“I can imagine,” she muttered.  Knowing that Dick would not lie to her…at least not intentionally, Barbara had to believe all of what she had heard was true.  But in reality, she was as guilty as doubting Thomas.  Until she actually saw the small child entering the room, her heart did not truly believe. </p><p> </p><p>But there he was…a small boy with dark, blue eyes that gazed silently at her, seeming to scrutinize everything in their vision.  His black hair shone in the light of the room and lay straight, except for a stubborn cowlick above his right temple.  A familiar pout pulled the well-shaped lips down at the corners.  Even at a diminutive size, he was very sturdy looking.  However, his face held a fragile quality that the adult Bruce had seemed to lack.  Without taking his eyes off of her, little Bruce walked quietly over to Dick and hugged his leg. </p><p> </p><p>Kneeling down, Dick asked, “Remember who this is, Bruce?”  When the little boy shook his head solemnly, he answered, “This is Barbara.  She’s a very good friend…a part of our family.” </p><p> </p><p>Bruce silently accepted the information.  Barbara could almost see him filing it away in his head.  Then he looked at Dick and asked earnestly, “Where’s Mommie?  I can’t find her anywhere, Daddy.” </p><p> </p><p>Before another word could be spoken, Alfred entered the room, looking rather worn and ragged.  “Oh there you are, Master Bruce!”  The older man sighed in relief.  “When I went to check on you, I found an empty bedroom.  I trust you had a restful nap.” </p><p> </p><p>“Yes sir, but now I’m hungry,” the little voice whined. </p><p> </p><p>Holding out his hand, Alfred smiled gently down at his charge.  “In that case, why don’t you and I go see if there is a plate of cookies on the kitchen table?” </p><p> </p><p>A half-grin tugged at Bruce’s mouth.  “I’ll bet there is!”  He grabbed onto Alfred’s hand and practically started to pull the older man out of the room.  “Come on!  Let’s see if they’re chocolate chip!” </p><p> </p><p>When Alfred and Bruce were gone, Barbara turned back to Dick.  “We’ve got a lot of explaining to do.” </p><p> </p><p>“Tell me about it.  I’m supposedly dead and Bruce is a very young looking thirty-eight year old.”  Scratching his head, Dick asked, “Any ideas?” </p><p> </p><p>“Nothing firm just yet…but why not call in the rest of the troops and brain storm?  Have you contacted Tim, Cassandra, and Jean Paul?” </p><p> </p><p>“No, you were the first.”  Then Dick added, “That is besides Alfred and Clark.” </p><p> </p><p>“Clark knows?” </p><p> </p><p>“When Bruce took off, Alfred could only reach Clark in order to find him,” Dick explained.  “He brought us back home, but took off shortly afterwards.  There was some sort of JLA crisis that had to be dealt with.  But he’s going to keep it quiet until we can sort it all out…he told me that much.” </p><p> </p><p>However, Dick’s words were lost on Barbara.  She had stopped listening to him after his first sentence.  Shaking her head, she asked, “Alfred didn’t tell you?” </p><p> </p><p>“Tell me what?” </p><p> </p><p>“He did contact someone else…me.”  Tears filled her eyes as she continued.  “He called me and I wouldn’t help.  I…I hung up the phone because I was angry with Bruce.” </p><p> </p><p>Dick’s brow wrinkled in concern as he knelt down in front of Barbara’s chair.  “Babs, it was a difficult time.  You were grieving and had no idea what Bruce was up to.  Nobody blames you for that.”  Then smiling he said, “Besides, who knows if we would both be alive had all these events played out a different way.  I might still be dead…or Bruce would be dead…or both of us.  So no regrets, okay?” </p><p> </p><p>Barbara nodded her head.  But the guilt still clung to her soul.  As always, she used it to drive her.  The next day Barbara gathered with the rest of the clan down in the Batcave to discuss possible cover stories. </p><p> </p><p>“Bruce had already come up with a cover story for you, Dick,” Jean Paul said, as he pulled up a file on the large computer.  “He planned your return from the start.  Of course, he had no way of knowing his outcome in all of this, so that’s the part we need to worry about.” </p><p> </p><p>“Wait a minute…Bruce didn’t just snap and go?  He planned it out?”  Barbara rubbed her forehead, feeling a headache forming. </p><p> </p><p>“Absolutely,” Tim answered.  “That’s why it took him so long to plan a funeral service and why he made up that elaborate story…one that would explain away having no body and then Dick’s reappearance.” </p><p> </p><p>“I was wondering why the papers were saying my body had not been found.  I mean, why not just wreck my motorcycle and say I forgot to wear my helmet or something?” Dick questioned. </p><p> </p><p>“Dude, that’s just really whacked hearing you talk about your dead body.”  Shaking his head, Tim remedied, “I’m glad to have you back, bro.  Really I am!  But I’m just still freaked out by all of this.”  He moved stiffly about, since he was still nursing his injuries acquired during that fateful fight against Shrike and Keyodi Ken. </p><p> </p><p>“Try being the one who was dead and came back to find out he’s got a five year old dad,” Dick quipped. </p><p> </p><p>“Well, we’ve got to explain that five year old soon.  So where did he come from?”  Sitting down in a seat next to Jean Paul, Tim began to scan the file his mentor had saved on Dick’s cover story.  “Why would you be in Cambodia in the first place?” </p><p> </p><p>Every one was silent for a few minutes while trying to reason out a possible answer.  Suddenly, Cassandra hopped off her perch on a counter and snapped her fingers.  “Backwards.” </p><p> </p><p>“What’s that?”  Rolling her wheelchair towards the teenage girl, Barbara gave her a curious, yet encouraging look. </p><p> </p><p>“We do not look for answers to the beginning, but from the end.  We need to work backwards…like a case.”  Cassandra grinned confidently as she continued.  “You find a clue.  You trace clues backwards, until you find the source.” </p><p> </p><p>“She’s right!”  Jean Paul’s face showed his excitement.  “So the first question should be…who’s the kid?” </p><p> </p><p>Immediately, Tim started to chuckle.  “Dick and Barbara’s love child!” </p><p> </p><p>“Ha.  Ha.  Very funny, Sherlock,” Dick muttered. </p><p> </p><p>Barbara rolled her eyes and said, “Yeah, aside from the fact that this kid is five years old and we were not an item back then…I’ve never been pregnant and people, including media, know that.” </p><p> </p><p>“Plus, I’m responsible and not a playboy.  So Kory would’ve been the only one that I was…” Dick began. </p><p> </p><p>“Whoa!”  Covering his ears, Tim blushed.  “Little too much info!  Just a joke, guys!”   </p><p> </p><p>“Hold on a sec!”  Jean Paul swiveled in the big chair to look at Dick.  “Maybe you’re not the playboy type.  But who do we know that has such a reputation?” </p><p> </p><p>“Bruce Wayne.  I see where you’re going, JP.”  Dick tapped the other young man’s shoulder, indicating he should get up.  As soon as the blonde man moved, Dick sat down and typed as he spoke.  “So five years ago, Bruce has a fling, which results in a child.  But apparently, he knows nothing of this kid…meaning the romance did not last very long.” </p><p> </p><p>Nodding her head, Barbara said, “That would explain the kid’s existence.  Now how do we tie all of that into you being in Cambodia and returning at the same time as this child?” </p><p> </p><p>“The boy was in Cambodia,” Jean Paul answered.  “But why there?” </p><p> </p><p>“His mother is from there?” Dick rubbed his chin thoughtfully.  “Cassandra could pass as a native Cambodian.” </p><p> </p><p>Catching on to the indications, Cassandra made a face, sticking out her tongue.  “Ewwww!  No!  I am not Batman’s woman!” </p><p> </p><p>Laughing, Barbara said, “Can we say pedophile as well, Dick?  I don’t think we would want to give Bruce THAT bad of a reputation.” </p><p> </p><p>“True…but I still say that Cassandra could be helpful in all of this.  It would help give her a better life outside of the cave.”  Without missing a beat, Dick glanced over at Tim.  “You’ve been awfully silent there, Timbo.  What’s on that mind of yours?” </p><p> </p><p>The teenage boy nodded his head thoughtfully.  “Bruce’s dad was a missionary doctor for a few years.  So it would not be too far fetched to believe that Bruce would be intrigued and a little infatuated with a young, beautiful lady doctor with plans to go over seas to work at a mission, right?” </p><p> </p><p>“Keep going,” Dick encouraged. </p><p> </p><p>“What if she leaves and goes to Cambodia doing her good work.  Finds out there that she’s pregnant, has the baby, and keeps him as her little secret.  After all, wouldn’t it be a little embarrassing for an unmarried missionary to be found in that condition?  A lot of unwanted media and gossip magazines would just love that story.”  Tim stopped for a breath and then continued.  “But what if she dies and leaves the kid alone?  Maybe she confided in someone…maybe that someone was young and very close to the missionary doctor…an orphaned girl that was like the boy’s sister or nanny?”  Looking to Cassandra, he asked, “Does that work better for you?”  Nodding her head, she smiled brightly at Tim. </p><p> </p><p>“You amaze me, bro!”  Slapping his hands together, Dick put in the final missing pieces.  “So this young Cambodian girl, who is the nanny, contacts me instead of Bruce…mainly because I would be easier to get in touch with.  Not wanting to see Bruce hurt if this is all a lie, I go to investigate.  Unfortunately, my plane goes down.  Everyone assumes I’m dead, until I show back up with Bruce’s kid.” </p><p> </p><p>“Ironically though, Bruce has died in another plane crash, going over the Atlantic.  He was going to Cambodia to find out why you were there in the first place.”  Barbara breathed a sigh of relief.  “It’s unbelievably realistic.  It just might work.” </p><p> </p><p>************ </p><p> </p><p>“I think he’s finally asleep.” </p><p> </p><p>“Huh?”  Barbara blinked her tired eyes, as she came back to the present. </p><p> </p><p>“I think he’s back asleep now,” Dick whispered, gently pushing the covers up around the slumbering child between them. </p><p> </p><p>Looking down at the innocent face, Barbara said, “You really should stop him from calling you that.” </p><p> </p><p>“What?” </p><p> </p><p>“Daddy.”  She shook her head.  “It’s not accurate and you should not let him do it.” </p><p> </p><p>“Babs, we’ve already talked about this…”  Dick argued.  “I’m all he’s got.” </p><p> </p><p>“No, you’re not,” Barbara countered forcefully. </p><p> </p><p>The little boy whimpered and rolled over towards Dick.  A small hand found the young man’s pajama shirt and tightly gripped the material.  Watching Dick smile down protectively at Bruce, Barbara felt a stab of jealousy. </p><p> </p><p>Speaking in hushed tones, Dick said, “We can talk about this in the morning.” </p><p> </p><p>“It is morning,” Barbara stated, as she lay back down. </p><p> </p><p>“You know what I mean.”  He sighed dejectedly. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re right.  I know exactly what you mean, Grayson,” she muttered and then flopped over on her side with her back to her bed partners. </p><p> </p><p>To be continued… </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Monkey Suits and Ties</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Waves of Change</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Chapter Two</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Monkey Suits and Ties</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Bruce’s eyes blinked open to soft sunlight flooding in from the large bay windows.  A deep yawn escaped his mouth, as he stretched his arms out.  One of his tightly balled fists gently bumped against another sleeping form, curled under the covers.  Red hair spilled out onto the pillow.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Confusion clouded his mind for a few seconds.  His mother didn’t have red hair.  So who was this woman?  Why was his father allowing her to stay there?  When was his real mother coming back home?</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>As suddenly as those thoughts appeared, his mind cleared.  His father was dead.  So was his mother.  The man and woman who were with him now were Dick and Barbara.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Bruce pressed his small hands against his temples.  His head hurt.  Then his stomach growled.  An overwhelming urge to find Alfred finally drove the boy out of bed and down to the kitchen.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>********</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Humming as he worked, Alfred mixed the pancake batter in a large bowl.  His charges would soon be up and need breakfast.  He added a few blueberries into the mix, checked the griddle, and adjusted the heat.  Spooning up the batter, he expertly made perfect circles onto the hot iron pan.  As he held up a spatula and waited to flip the pancakes, the door to the kitchen swung open.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning, Master Bruce,” the old gentleman greeted the child.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Mornin,’ Alfred.”  Dressed in an oversized t-shirt that hung to his ankles, Bruce wandered over to the stove and stood beside his long-time guardian.  The adults had somehow neglected to think of pajamas when clothes shopping for him.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Smiling down at the boy, Alfred tsked, “We shall have to remedy your night attire soon.”  Thinking to himself of the long list of chores already scheduled for the day, he added, “Perhaps tomorrow you and I shall go shopping.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not today?”  Bruce questioned, as he watched Alfred turn over the pancakes.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I must prepare everything for tonight’s dinner.  Remember?  We talked about how our friends, Dr. Leslie and Mr. Jim Gordon, will be joining us tonight.  Not to mention the regular crew…”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Grinning, Bruce nodded his head.  “Oh yeah, Tim said he’d bring some video games to play.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Indeed,” Alfred muttered.  Placing a pile of blueberry pancakes onto a plate, he ordered, “Now Master Bruce, go sit at the table and I shall fetch you some milk and syrup.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes sir.”  The boy took the plate and did as he was told, all the while watching Alfred closely.  When the old man returned with a glass of milk and bottle of syrup, Bruce quietly asked, “Don’t you ever get tired?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Taken aback, Alfred actually stuttered, “D-do I ever g-get tired?  Where on earth did that question come from?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Shrugging his shoulders, Bruce answered, “You’re always doing stuff…always busy.”  Then he stuffed a huge bite of pancakes in his mouth.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Before Alfred could respond, the kitchen door swung open again.  This time, Dick walked in dressed in khaki pants, a light-blue button shirt, and a navy blazer.  “Good morning, Alfred.”  Walking over to where Bruce sat, he placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder.  “Big guy, you’re already up?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Bruce smiled, syrup running down his chin.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Pray tell, where do you believe you are going dressed as such?” Alfred asked, pointedly ignoring the poor table manners of the youngest.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Wayne Enterprises.  I’ve got that meeting this morning,” Dick answered, as he walked towards the coffee pot.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“After a change of clothing, of course,” Alfred added.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Glancing down at himself, Dick questioned, “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing now?”  Ever observant, he noticed that young Bruce’s head swiveled to focus on Alfred in expectation.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The old man delivered, “Master Dick, you are now the fourth richest man in the world.  You own Wayne Enterprises and countless other subsidiary companies.  As such, you cannot go to a board meeting in casual attire.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Bruce’s head turned again, eyes now resting on Dick.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Alfred, this is as dressed up as I get unless it’s one of those stupid charity things that demands I put on a monkey suit.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Opening up his mouth to send another counter attack, Alfred was interrupted by a snort.  Both men glared down at the boy who was now covering his mouth with syrup-sticky fingers.  “You find us amusing, Master Bruce?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pointing at Dick and giggling, the child accused, “You said ‘monkey suit!’”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The two bickering men tried their best to stifle chuckles, but failed miserably.  Soon all three of the kitchen’s occupants were laughing together.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>After catching his breath, Dick nodded.  “I suppose you’ve got a point, Alfred.  I’ll go put on a suit or something.”  He reached over and tousled the little boy’s hair before exiting the room.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Good show, Master Bruce,” Alfred said approvingly.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Sliding out of his chair, Bruce suddenly asked, “Alfred, may I go get dressed now?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Certainly, sir.  Remember to wash your face and hands.”  Pointing a warning finger, Alfred finished, “And brush your teeth.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes sir!”  With a mock salute, the boy darted out of the kitchen and upstairs.  He needed to hurry.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>************</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Dick quietly entered the master bedroom, not wanting to disturb Barbara.  He went straight to the walk-in closet to look for a suit.  It was so strange to be here in Bruce’s old room.  But Alfred had insisted that Dick was now the head of the house, therefore he would occupy the appropriate space.  As a child, Bruce was rerouted to a nearby and unoccupied bedroom.  </span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The thought of his adoptive father caused Dick to frown.  He missed the man terribly.  To him, Bruce might as well be dead.  Yet, the little boy downstairs was all too real.  There were traces…though miniscule…of the old Bruce.  But was that enough?  Shaking his head, Dick knew it would have to be for him.  It was payback time.  Bruce had been his protector for so long.  Now the roles were in reverse.  Besides, he always did have a soft spot for little kids.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Finding a suit to his liking, Dick removed it from the hanger and walked out into the bedroom again.  Movement from the bed caught his eye and he smiled.  “Morning, Babs.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Barbara groaned, as she sat up in bed.  “What time is it?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Glancing down at his watch, Dick exclaimed, “Late…very late!”  He quickly began to change clothes.  “As in ten ‘til nine and I’m going to be late.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“So why are you changing?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Alfred said…”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Well there you go,” Barbara interrupted.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The young man finished changing in silence.  Grabbing a nearby duffel bag, he stuffed his more casual outfit into it and ran over to give Barbara a peck on the cheek.  “Gotta go!”  He dashed to the door, but stopped and turned around.  “Do me a favor?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” she asked with little enthusiasm.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Watch Bruce for me…you know, keep him company.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Barbara’s eyes narrowed into slits.  “You know I’m going to the clocktower today.  My plants are dying.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to drive right by there.  I can stop and water them for you,” Dick offered.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Shaking her head, she added, “No, I’m also running out of clothes and need something to wear tonight for dinner.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me what you need and I can pick that up, too.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Anger welled up inside her.  Could he not tell she had reached her limit?  She needed a break.  “Dick, I can’t.  End of story.  I’m going to the clocktower.  I’m watering my plants.  I’m picking out my own clothes.  I’m going to take a long…extremely long bubble bath.  I’m going to sleep without some brat screaming and waking me up.  Above all else, I’m NOT going to babysit for you.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Dick stood in the doorway with his mouth hanging open.  He was absolutely floored.  Then a thought invaded his mind and he sighed in defeat.  If his suspicions were correct, he had no hope of winning this argument.  Best to leave well enough alone.  “Okay.  No problem.  I’m sure Bruce can entertain himself.  He’s always been the independent type, huh?  Bye, honey!”  He shut the door hurriedly before the beautiful woman could hurtle another heated word at him.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pivoting on his heel, Dick jumped back at the occupant in his path.  “Bruce?  What are you doing?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The little boy smiled, flecks of toothpaste still on his lips.  Bruce had dressed himself in the suit that Alfred had set out for him to wear at that night’s dinner.  Even the little clip-on tie hung haphazardly from the collar.  “I’m going to work with you.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The thought of Bruce being his real-life “mini-me” caused Dick to laugh.  But noticing the seriousness in the boy’s expression, the young man knelt down in order to be eye level.  “Not today, Bruce.  I’ve got a meeting and it’s going to last a long time.  You need to stay here and help Alfred.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The familiar pout returned.  “But I don’t want you to go…not if I can’t go with you.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Dick said, sympathetically.  “I don’t really want to go myself.  But it’s something I have to do.”  Wanting to cheer the boy up, he promised, “I’ll be home by three o’clock.  That’ll give us at least two hours to do whatever you want before we have to clean up for dinner.  Deal?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, it’s a deal.”  Bruce shook Dick’s offered hand.  Standing up, Dick moved towards the stairs.  “Daddy?”  The man stopped in his tracks, slowly looking back over his shoulder.  “Is Mommy home yet?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Dick sighed and went back to the boy, getting eye level again.  “Bruce, I…I’m not…do you remember who I am?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Brow furrowing in confusion, Bruce’s dark blue eyes searched Dick’s face.  A stricken look of horror suddenly paled the boy’s features.  “I’m sorry,” he said softly.  “I…I just forgot.”  With that, his eyes filled with tears that spilled over and rolled down his cheeks.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, it’s okay.  It’s going to be all right, big guy.  Everything’s okay,” Dick soothed, as he pulled the child into a gentle hug.  At first, the boy stiffened.  A pure Bruce-response.  But soon, he hugged back, calming down to wipe the tears away.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re Dick.  Not Daddy.”  Pulling back, Bruce pointed to the master bedroom door and said, “That’s Barbara.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Right,” Dick answered with an encouraging nod.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Dick, is Barbara up yet?”  Bruce questioned, innocently.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Regaining his feet all over again, the young man nodded his head.  “Yeah, but I wouldn’t bother her today.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>An enigmatic grin tugged at Dick’s lips, as he said, “It’s that time of the month when she wants to be left alone by all men…great and small.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.”  Bruce bobbed his head as if he understood.  Then he ran after the young man, who was hurriedly making his way downstairs.  “What’s that mean, Dick?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Ask Alfred.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>**************</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>An hour later, Bruce peeked into the dining room.  He was now dressed in jeans and a brown sweater with a green T-rex on the front.  Standing in the doorway, the child’s eyes sparkled mischievously, as he stealthily moved into the room.  Alfred, who was busy arranging the table, failed to hear the nearly silent footsteps from behind.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I help?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh!”  The old man startled, dropping a few pieces of silverware.  “Goodness, Master Bruce!  I did not hear you come in.”  The little boy blinked innocently up at him, remaining silent and waiting for an answer to his question.  “It’s ‘may I help?’  Yes, you may.”  Alfred handed the boy a stack of napkins, saying, “Here.  Watch me fold a few.  Then you may prepare the rest.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Bruce focused on what the old gentleman was doing with the square cloth.  It seemed simple enough.  He could do that easily.  After a few minutes, he was sitting on his knees in a chair at the head of the dining room table.  Picking up the napkin on top of his stack, the little boy began to fold.  He remembered exactly how Alfred had shown him, yet his small hands refused to work correctly.  None of his efforts were producing the desired results.  It was so frustrating being a kid.  His fine motor skills had to be learned all over again. </span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Damn it!”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Upon hearing the loud curse, Alfred’s head shot up.  His eyes narrowed dangerously at the child before him.  “Pardon me, sir?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oops.”  Grinning sheepishly, Bruce said, “I meant to say, ‘dang it.’  I swear, Alfred!”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Indeed, my boy.  That you did.”  Sighing, the man placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder.  “Whatever are we going to do with you?  Time will only tell how all of this is going to play out.  Until then, we are all going to need lots of patience, I’m afraid.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve got enough for all of us.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Alfred and Bruce gazed over to the doorway.  Barbara rolled her wheelchair into the room and said rather crisply, “I’m going into the city.  I’ll be back for dinner tonight.  Need me to pick up anything while I’m out?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“No, my dear.  I believe everything we require is all accounted for right here in the Manor.  Shall I see you out?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Before Barbara could answer, Bruce grabbed onto the old man’s arm and shook his head fiercely.  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Alfred.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Nonsense, Master Bruce.  Why not?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tilting her head and arching an eyebrow, Barbara crossed her arms in front of her chest.  “Yeah, Bruce…what’s this about?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Glancing nervously at the red-head, Bruce crooked his finger, indicating Alfred should bend down to hear the explanation.  Then in a hushed voice that was loud enough for all the room’s occupants, the boy said, “You better not mess with her, because it’s that time of the month.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me!” Barbara practically shouted, as her face turned red from embarrassment and anger.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh for the love!  Master Bruce!”  Wide-eyed in shock, Alfred questioned, “What would make you say such a thing?  Young gentlemen do not go announcing that about ladies.  It is not proper!”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Then you need to remind Dick about it,” Bruce muttered.  “He said it first.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh that does it!”  Barbara wheeled herself out of the room and down the hallway, muttering curses under her breath.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Both old man and little boy watched her exit.  Then Alfred turned his eyes slowly back to his charge, still shocked at what had transpired.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>However, Bruce just shrugged innocently, a blank expression on his face.  “Guess you need to remind Barbara to replace those bad words with ‘dang it’ and ‘shoot’ and ‘freakin,’ too, huh?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Closing his eyes for a brief moment, Alfred rubbed his forehead.  “Sir, I think it best you go to your room and reflect on your actions.  Whether you know it or even care to admit it or not, you are now a child.  As such, you must control your tongue.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Go to your room, Master Bruce.  I shall call you down for lunch.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Mumbling about adults, Bruce left the dining room.  Reaching the staircase, he placed his foot on the bottom step.  Standing there for a long time, he thought back over the whole ugly scene.  Shame washed over him as he realized just what he said and what it had meant.  How could he forget all of that?  His brain had memories of the adult Bruce, but worked like that of a child.  Just like his fine motor skills, he had to relearn life’s lessons.   Everything was always so complicated.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The desire to escape from the manor resounded in his head.  Where to go?  An idea formed in his mind, causing him to smile wickedly.  Sneaking down the hall, Bruce slipped into the library.  Going over to the grandfather clock, he glanced up at the gigantic antique.  He was too short and would never be able to reach the hands on the clock face to open the hidden door.  Frowning in disappoint, the boy growled his frustration.  Wheeling around on one foot, he kicked a nearby chair.  Suddenly, a grin formed.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It took a bit of a struggle, but Bruce managed to scoot the chair over to the side of the clock.  Now that he could reach it, he paused and bit his lip.  One of the hands needed to be on the ten.  So he moved the long hand over.  That meant the next hand should go just two notches away from the nine.  He placed the short hand just slightly past the remembered number.  Sighing in satisfaction, Bruce yanked on the clock.  It didn’t budge.  What was wrong?  Closing his eyes, he visualized the numbers and clock hand placements in his mind.  It had to be right.  It had to be…Wrong!  He had gotten the hour and minute hand mixed up.  His parents were killed at 10:47, not 9:50.  The boy quickly corrected his mistake and was rewarded with a loud click.  The clock easily opened to reveal a secret passageway.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Bruce had not been down in the cave since he was brought home from his dip in the Lazarus Pit.  It felt familiar and strange at the same time.  He enjoyed exploring and playing with different things.  Spying a box of funny bat shaped objects, Bruce recalled the word batarang.  Picking one up, he threw it as hard as he could against one of the cave walls.  An explosion of rock and dust knocked him into a backward somersault.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Whoa!”  Scrambling to his feet, he grabbed an armload of the devices and ran to the nearest ledge.  For the next ten minutes, the cave echoed the sounds of laughter and blasts as Bruce hurled one batarang at a time into the deep abyss.  When his supply ran out, the boy darted back toward the box, intent on retrieving more.  However, his eye caught something else.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>A circular platform surrounded by metal across the back half and a clear Plexiglas covering across the front.  The control panel was mounted on a metal post to the side of the contraption.  Bruce remembered this machine was used to take people to other places…like an elevator.  But try as he might, he could not recollect its intended destination.  Curiosity led him to punch a few buttons on the control panel.  When the clear door opened, the boy cautiously stepped inside.  The door closed with a whoosh.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh-oh.”  Immediately all bravery and inquisitiveness was gone.  His eyes locked onto more buttons inside the strange elevator.  Maybe one of those would set him free from his trap.  He pushed the green one.  The machine hummed to life.  A strange, queasiness shot through the boy’s body as a bright light engulfed him.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>When the light faded, Bruce heard the door’s soft whoosh as it reopened.  He hastily exited, deciding he should go back upstairs before he really got into trouble.  Blinking his eyes to rid them of the blinding spots caused by the light, he gasped in horror.  A large window stood before him, showcasing an excellent view of the earth far below in a velvet black sea with a sprinkling of stars.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>So Bruce said what any five year old would in a situation such as this one.  “That is soooo cool!”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>To be continued… </span>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Sneaking Suspicions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Waves of Change</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Chapter 3</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Sneaking Suspicions</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>As he entered the large conference room, Dick struggled to control the butterflies that swarmed in his stomach.  The long table in the middle of the room was occupied by a multitude of familiar, yet distant faces.  Some smiled at him.  Others grunted a quick greeting.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“There he is!”  Lucius’ face expressed relief as he stepped forward to shake Dick’s hand.  “Alfred called and said you were on the way.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry.  Lotta traffic,” Dick muttered, his face burning from all the prying eyes.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, go ahead and take your place so we can get down to business.”  Lucius pointed to the empty seat at the head of the table.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The young man, who was now the fourth richest man in the world, hesitantly approached the expensive office chair.  Reaching out his hand in a reverent manner, he touched the black leather headrest.  This chair was meant for Bruce.   It was Bruce’s role…Bruce’s responsibility.  How in the world could he ever manage all of the pressure alone?</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Dick?”  Placing a gentle hand on his new boss’ shoulder, Lucius watched with great concern as Dick turned grieving eyes to him.  “Are you okay?” he whispered in the younger man’s ear.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Silently, Dick nodded his head and quickly sat down.  Sighing, he glanced out the window displaying Gotham’s skyline and wondered if a certain little boy was adjusting any better.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>*******************************</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Bruce crept silently down the hall toward the sound of adult voices as he continued exploring the JLA moon headquarters.  Excitement built up inside him as a flash of memory shot through his brain.  Heroes came together here…Superman, Wonder Woman, Flash, Martian Manhunter, Aquaman, Green Lantern, and Plastic Man.  Sneaking around the edge of the open door of the conference room, Bruce happily spied on his one-time colleagues.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>******************************</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The meeting had just begun.  However, the large room already felt constricting as the tension mounted.  As always, the Martian Manhunter was undertaking the monstrous task of mediator.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
  
</p><p>
  <span>“He will contact you.  After all, he is your best friend.”  J’onn patted Wally’s back gently.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I just want to know what is going on!  Is that too much to ask?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Flash…Wally, just calm down,” Kyle </span>
  <span>Rayner</span>
  <span> pleaded.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“No.  I won’t.”  Wally hissed at the young Green Lantern.  Springing out of his chair, he pointed a finger at Superman.  “If it wasn’t for my respect for you, I would have already gone to Gotham and found out what the heck is happening!  But you told me to give him space…that he asked you to tell me to give him time…and I have…”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, Wally,” Superman stated calmly.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you?”  The speedster’s voice quivered slightly.  “That’s my best friend.  I thought he was dead…gone.  And now that I know differently, I’m suppose to just sit here and pretend nothing’s happened?” </span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not what we’re saying,” Diana answered.  “It’s a complicated matter that needs delicate handling.  A lot of lives have been turned upside down over this situation.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Plastic Man’s body twisted into a question mark.  “What situation?  I’m still confused.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re always confused,” Wally muttered.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Arthur chuckled and quipped, “Oh, so that explains everything.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Gasping dramatically and gripping his chest, Plastic Man moaned, “You cut me to the core, man!”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>With the lessening tension, Kyle decided he could try to speak his concerns.  “You know, I’m sorta like Eel here.  Everyone seems to be talking over my head.  We are discussing Batman and Nightwing, right?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Sighing heavily, Superman paced over to stand by the large window.  Billions of stars twinkled through his reflection.  He always knew this day would come and had always dreaded its arrival.  Even with Dick’s blessing, he felt as though he was betraying a great friend.  “I’m sorry, Bruce,” he whispered before turning his back to the window.  “Kyle, Eel…how much of the news have you been watching this past week?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What news?” Plastic Man grumbled.  “All anyone seems to care about is that dumb playboy who wrecked his private jet over the Atlantic.  You would think the reporters could find something else to…”  Before he knew it, Eel was knocked to the ground in a red blur.  He felt several stinging punches to his face and caught a few phrases shouted at lightening speed.  </span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“…shut up…don’t know anything…he’s a good man…”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Wally!  Stop it!”  J’onn yanked the younger man away.  “You must control yourself!”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wiping the blood from his split lip, Eel kept his eye on Flash.  Leaning toward Arthur who was kneeling beside him, he mumbled, “I opened my big mouth again, didn’t I?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The Atlantean King nodded solemnly.  “I keep telling you not to do that.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Still struggling in the Martian’s arms, Wally cried out, “This is not a joke, putty face!  You don’t know a damn thing!  Just wait until…”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh man, you’re </span>
  <span>gonna</span>
  <span> be in big trouble if Alfred hears you talking like that.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The speedster immediately ceased his protest as all the heroes’ attention pivoted to the doorway.  There stood a small boy with the blackest of hair and the bluest of eyes.  His presence, though foreign, was oddly comforting.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Noticing the strange expressions and gawking stares, the boy simple shrugged his shoulders and defended, “Well, it’s true!  Alfred doesn’t like bad words.” </span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>****************************</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Smiling at the impeccably set dining table, Alfred flicked the light switch off and closed the dining room’s wide French doors.  He headed toward the kitchen going over all the chores yet to be done, when the memory of a certain little boy crept into his mind.  Sighing, the old gentleman thought to himself that he was too old for children.  However, this child needed him now more than ever.  So Alfred wearily climbed the stairs to the boy’s room.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Knocking softly, he called, “Master Bruce?”  When the only answer he received was silence, Alfred knocked again and opened the door slightly.  “Master Bruce, I believe it is time for us to discuss…”  Spying the empty bed, the butler quickly scanned the rest of the unoccupied room.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, of all the nerve!”  Alfred swiftly turned on his heel and marched downstairs.  After going through almost every nook and cranny, he stopped in front of the study’s large double doors.  It was the last place to hunt.  Surely the child would have no reason to go into that dark and depressing place…unless the boy had remembered the cave!</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Throwing the doors open, Alfred’s worst fears were met with reality.  The grandfather clock was swung out from the wall.  Dashing down the dark staircase, Alfred’s voice echoed throughout the cave.  “Master Bruce!  Come here at once!  This is not a playground, young man!  Master Bruce, I said come here!”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The older man’s intuition told him something was not right.  An overwhelming urgency drew him to the cave’s security system.  He punched in a code and then proceeded to watch the past hour video feed rewind.  His eyes widened as the boy’s image appeared on the screen from inside the JLA </span>
  <span>teleporter</span>
  <span>.  “Oh dear Heavens!”</span>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Who's a Grumpy Old Bat?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Song is I Don't Want to Live on the Moon by Sesame Street</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Waves of Change</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Chapter 4</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Who’s a Grumpy Old Bat?</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Well I’d like to visit the moon,</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>On a rocket ship high in the air.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Yes, I ‘d like to visit the moon,</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>But I don’t think I’d like to live there.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Though I’d like to look down at the Earth from above,</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I would miss all the places and people I love</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>So although I might like it for one afternoon,</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I don’t want to live on the moon.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>*************</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Bruce?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The little boy casually turned his eyes toward Superman.  “Yeah?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Before Superman could say anything else, Wally kneeled in front of the child.  “Oh my God…he looks just like…I thought he might be…Dick.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope, he’s at a meeting,” Bruce informed.  “</span>
  <span>Babs</span>
  <span> wants to be left alone,” voice dropping to a whisper, “…because it’s that time of the month, but don’t say that in front of her or Alfred because they both get really mad even though Dick said it first.”  He took a big breath before finishing.  “Alfred’s busy with setting the table.  So I decided to go to the cave.  But I forgot what that funny elevator was for…and…well, now I’m here.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The Justice League conference room fell silent once more.  Everyone was in total shock.  Finally, Wally managed a fleeting smile at the boy.  Slowly standing to his feet, he muttered to Diana, “I see now what you meant by complicated.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t know it was this complicated,” she answered back.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>In the mean time, Superman had approached Bruce.  He had seen the child once before when he rescued both Dick and Bruce a month ago.  But after leaving Wayne Manor that night, he had kept his promise by allowing the Bat clan their space.  Dick had assured the Man of Steel about keeping him updated on the situation.  In fact, he had been invited to dinner with Lois at the Manor that very evening.  Still, his heart and mind were having a difficult time truly adjusting to his close friend’s new status…a five year old boy.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Bending down, Superman came face to face with Bruce.  The child’s blue eyes stared back with intensity and the jaw was set in a stubborn fashion.  If Superman questioned the existence of Batman in this small package, he was given the answer now.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“BOO!”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Superman jerked, startled from the unexpected outcry.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Giggling, Bruce winked his eye mischievously and said, “Gotcha!”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Chuckling softly, Superman nodded, “Always could.”  Then he placed a gentle hand on the boy’s shoulder.  “It’s good to see you, Bruce.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>*****************</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Glancing at his watch, Dick noted that only four minutes had passed since he had first wondered the time.  This meeting was going into its third hour.  Now he could see why Bruce avoided the office as much as possible…and why </span>
  <span>Lucius</span>
  <span> always complained about him falling asleep.  Dick began to drum his pen slowly against the side of the table.  Maybe that would help pass the time…tick the seconds by faster.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>A sharp clearing of the throat brought Dick’s gaze up into the face of </span>
  <span>Lucius</span>
  <span> Fox.  The intelligent businessman glared down in irritation at the beating pen and then back to the young man.  With a little sigh, Dick dropped the pen onto the table and folded his hands.  Silently, he wondered how Alfred had managed to duplicate himself into a middle-aged black man in order to keep tabs on Bruce at work.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>******************</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I’d like to travel under the sea,</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I could meet all the fish everywhere.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Yes, I’d travel under the sea,</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>But I don’t think I’d like to live there.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I might stay for a day there if I had my wish.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>But there’s not much to do when your friends are all fish.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>And an oyster and clam aren’t real family,</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>So I don’t want to live in the sea.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>******************</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Staring out the window viewing the hallway, Wally watched </span>
  <span>J’onn</span>
  <span> slowly follow the boy into the recreational room.  “How did it happen?  What did he do?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Now seated at the conference table, Superman answered, “That’s the main reason for our meeting today.  We have several things to discuss…all based on the fact that one of our own is literally walking Memory Lane.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Returning to his own chair, Wally joined his teammates.  “Well, let’s start from the beginning.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“The very beginning!  I’m tired of being confused,” Plastic Man whined.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You and Kyle could easily figure this out, you know,” Arthur confided.  “Think back to when we all went to the </span>
  <span>Batcave</span>
  <span> about a year ago…”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The members of the JLA stood in awe at the expansive underground hideout of the Bat.  Their teammate, Batman, had asked for assistance in deciphering some puzzling clues involving a massive genre of rogues.  The Dark Knight knew time was of the essence and once solved the heroes could easily split up to take on the challenge.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow!  What’s this machine do?”  Plastic Man reached his hand out to touch the odd keyboard.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t touch anything!” Batman ordered sharply.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <span>Oooo-kaaaay</span>
  <span>.”  </span>
  <span>Plas</span>
  <span> drew his hand back slowly.  “I’ll be a good boy.”  He immediately changed into a Labrador Retriever.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Thirty minutes later, the team was working on the main details of the case when someone was heard coming down the long staircase Batman had banned from exploration.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Bruce!  Are you down here?  I know you are!”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Leslie, come back here at once!’</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Quit covering for him, Alfred.  You know he’s only going to wear himself in the ground.  Do you hear that, Bruce?  You should be in bed!”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Please Leslie, let’s discuss this later.  Batman is busy right now…”  There was a hint of warning in the voice.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, ‘Bat’ man has doctor’s orders.  Bruce, you’ve been avoiding me these past two days because you know very well I prescribed bed rest for at least three days and since your bed is unoccupied at the moment, I am assuming you are not…resting…oh dear…”  Dr. Leslie </span>
  <span>Thompkins</span>
  <span> stopped in her tracks as the full force of the Justice League came into view as well as her mistake.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Bruce?”  Kyle whispered over to Wally, “His name is Bruce?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Um…I’m not going to elaborate on anything that was just overheard,” Wally stated in a nervous voice.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Alfred appeared right on the heels of the good doctor.  Sighing, he mumbled, “We’ll never hear the end of this now.”  With an apologetic gesture, he spoke to Batman.  “Terribly sorry, Sir.  I tried to stop her.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s got a butler!”  Plastic Man turned into the mirror image of Alfred.  “How’s it going, </span>
  <span>Jeeves</span>
  <span>?”  Alfred’s expression clearly showed his irritation.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I’m so sorry…I had no idea!”  Dr. Leslie shook her head in shame.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright.”  Batman stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.  “We’re all friends here.  But still, I would prefer my professional name while in the cave.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes of course, Batman.  Shall I bring refreshments down?”  The gentleman’s gentleman easily entered into his role.  Soon the cave’s occupants were being served milk and cookies to help sustain them during the tedious detective work. </span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I remember that!”  Kyle’s face showed his excitement.  “We found out his first name…Bruce.  He had a butler…”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Alfonso?  No, Albert!” Eel exclaimed.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Shaking his head, Kyle corrected, “Alfred, I think.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, all I know, those were the best cookies I ever ate!”  Licking his lips, Plastic Man felt his mouth water at the memory.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“So a rich guy named Bruce from </span>
  <span>Gotham</span>
  <span> City…”  Laughing, Kyle slapped his hand on his forehead.  “I just never put it together.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Put what together?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Eel!  Listen to what I just said…a rich guy named Bruce from </span>
  <span>Gotham</span>
  <span> City,” Kyle repeated.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Shrugging his shoulders, Plastic Man questioned, “Bruce Wayne?  But we’ve already discussed that…he’s dead.”  Face falling, Eel glanced over immediately to the young Flash.  “I’m just stating a fact, okay?  We’re cool?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Nodding, Wally agreed, “We’re cool.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Arthur leaned his forearms on the table.  “I know you’re smarter than this, </span>
  <span>Plas</span>
  <span>.  Of course the media is saying Bruce Wayne is dead…because it would be awfully hard to explain that </span>
  <span>Gotham’s</span>
  <span> favorite son went from being a man to a boy.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“So that’s…you mean to say our Batman is that little Bruce kid who used to be the big Bruce Wayne of </span>
  <span>Gotham</span>
  <span> City?”  Allowing his head to swell to a gross size, Eel cried, “It’s too much!”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Unbelievable,” Kyle muttered.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Unfortunately, it’s all real,” Arthur stated.  “So what happens now?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>*****************</span>
  
</p><p>
  
  
</p><p>
  <span>I’d like to visit the jungle,</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Hear the lions roar.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Go back in time and meet a dinosaur.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>There’s so many strange places I’d like to be,</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>But none of them permanently.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>******************</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow!  Look at that!  It’s Africa!”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>J’onn</span>
  <span> marveled at the sight of the child pressing his face against the window for the best view.  How could this boy be Batman?  Yet the Martian </span>
  <span>Manhunter</span>
  <span> knew the impossible had truly happened.  Using his telepathic abilities had revealed a shattered memory through a child’s perspective.  However, </span>
  <span>J’onn</span>
  <span> noted with trepidation that the boy’s memory storage was slowly deteriorating.  Only the most recent events were strongly planted.  In time, Bruce would lose most memories of his past, leaving only ghostly prints in his mind.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <span>J’onn</span>
  <span>, where do you stay?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Blinking down at the inquisitive face, the Martian questioned, “What do you mean?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Well where do you go…after you leave here?  Clark goes to Metropolis.”  Bruce pointed to the spinning blue and green planet.  “Where’s your home?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I…I stay here.  The Watchtower is my home.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You live on the moon!”  The boy’s eyes widened in wonderment.  “That’s so cool!”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>A sudden feeling of homesickness tugged at </span>
  <span>J’onn’s</span>
  <span> heart.  “Yes, I suppose it is.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Bruce noticed the change in his alien friend.  Hesitantly, he approached </span>
  <span>J’onn</span>
  <span>.  “Don’t be sad.  You can always come stay with me.  Alfred won’t mind and there’s plenty of room.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Allowing a smile to play on his lips, </span>
  <span>J’onn</span>
  <span> admitted, “I daresay, I like you better this way.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What way?” Bruce chirped innocently, causing </span>
  <span>J’onn</span>
  <span> to break into laughter.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>******************</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Contemplating the benefits and drawbacks of banging his head against the polished table, Dick glanced around the room in extreme boredom.  In all his life, he could not recall a single time in which he had to endure sitting in the same spot feeling trapped and useless.  So when the conference room’s door cracked open ever so slightly, he straightened in his chair in anticipation.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Betsy?” </span>
  <span>Lucius</span>
  <span> asked, slightly amused at his new boss’ interest.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry to interrupt, but Mr. Grayson has an urgent call on line one,” the young secretary informed, blushing slightly as she nodded to the handsome man.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Dick managed to say without too big of a grin.  Picking up the receiver, he wondered who it might be on the other end.  It did not take long to find out.  “Hello?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Master Dick, I’m terribly sorry, Sir…”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright, Alfred.  What’s up?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’m afraid Master Bruce has…gone on a little trip,” Alfred finished with a slight sigh.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Not sure he really wanted to know, Dick asked anyway, “A little trip?  What little trip did he go on?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“According to the cave’s </span>
  <span>teleporter</span>
  <span>, he is currently visiting the moon, Sir,” the old man reported quite sternly.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s…how…</span>
  <span>waitaminute</span>
  <span>…you mean he…he’s there now?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“And with the whole Justice League, I’m afraid.  Remember the meeting was to be held this morning.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Crap a </span>
  <span>freakin</span>
  <span>’ dog!”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius</span>
  <span> leaned forward.  “Everything okay?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Dick held up a hand, as he continued to talk to Alfred.  “Call Clark and see if he can help out.  I’m on my way home.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes sir,” Alfred answered before hanging up.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Clenching his jaw and shaking his head, Dick could not believe the irony of the moment.  Just a few minutes ago, he was wishing for some type of diversion.  But now that it had arrived, he longed for something less…involving.  Personally, he was not ready to face the superhero world.  </span>
  <span>Nightwing</span>
  <span> and Batman had taken an extended leave from action since that fatal night, leaving </span>
  <span>Gotham</span>
  <span> and </span>
  <span>Bludhaven</span>
  <span> in the capable hands of other vigilantes.  Yet as always, Bruce had his own unique agenda.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Dick?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, I’ve got to go, </span>
  <span>Lucius</span>
  <span>.  Bruce, Jr. has decided to take an unannounced road trip.  I’ve got to go get him home.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“He wasn’t kidnapped…?” </span>
  <span>Lucius</span>
  <span> began to question.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Waving his hand, Dick answered walking to the door, “No, no, nothing that serious!  Alfred knows where he’s at and he’s safe, I’m sure.  But I just need to go take care of it so it won’t happen again.  Sorry.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” </span>
  <span>Lucius</span>
  <span> answered, surrounded by stunned board members.  “Call if you need anything and I’ll see you tomorrow?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, tomorrow.  Thanks!”  Dick was in a jog before the door could shut behind him.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius</span>
  <span> stared worriedly after him as he listened to the board members’ whispered concerns.  One was heard above the rest…</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“If he can’t control one child at home, how’s he going to be able to handle this company and its </span>
  <span>assests</span>
  <span>?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>***********************</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>So if I should visit the moon,</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Well, I’ll dance on a moonbeam and then,</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I will make a wish on a star,</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>And I’ll wish I was home once again.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Though I’d like to look down at the Earth from above,</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I would miss all the places and people I love.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>So although I may go, I’ll be coming home soon,</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Cause I don’t want to live on the moon.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>No, I don’t want to live on the moon.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>*******************</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Do I </span>
  <span>gotta</span>
  <span> go?”  Bruce frowned as he kicked his sneaker against the floor to make squeaking sounds.  “I was just starting to have fun.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Grinning slightly at the thought of Batman having fun at the Watchtower, Superman placed a gentle hand on the boy’s shoulder.  “I know, Bruce.  But Alfred and Dick have been very worried.  You shouldn’t have left without telling them.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Clearly irritated, Bruce shot back, “I already told you!  I forgot what that </span>
  <span>whatchamacallit</span>
  <span> did!  It wasn’t my fault!”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;Someone needs a nap.&gt;  </span>
  <span>J’onn</span>
  <span> spoke telepathically.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>&lt;Yeah, I guess this trip has been an exhausting one on his little body.&gt;  Superman answered back.  Hesitating slightly, he finally reached down and scooped the angry child up into his arms.  “Hey there, let’s not be that way.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Still holding his frown, Bruce muttered, “It’s just nobody has time for me back home.  Everybody is doing something and I can’t do anything.  But here I got to do fun stuff.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I seem to recall a dinner party is scheduled for your house tonight.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>New light shone in the boy’s eyes.  “Are you </span>
  <span>gonna</span>
  <span> be there?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You bet!”  Then pointing a finger to tap Bruce’s nose, Superman added, “And I expect to see a happy Bruce at the door, not a grumpy old bat.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Who’s a grumpy old bat?” Bruce wrinkled his nose as he gave a mock growl.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>*******************</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Dick had just started to descend the winding staircase to the </span>
  <span>Batcave</span>
  <span> when he heard the </span>
  <span>teleporter</span>
  <span> fizz to life.  By the time he reached the last step, he saw Superman stepping off the platform with Bruce in his arms.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>As the Man of Steel lowered his package, Alfred immediately began to fuss over the boy.  “Master Bruce, you simply cannot disappear like that again.  It’s too much for an old man like me.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Stepping forward, Dick shook Superman’s hand.  “Thanks, Clark.  I appreciate everything.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Anytime.”  With a wink, Superman commented, “You’ve certainly got your hands full.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You can say that again.”  Anxious to have a talk with the wandering child, Dick questioned, “See you tonight?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Picking up the hint, Superman nodded as he stepped back on the platform.  “You can count on it.  See you then!”  With a few touches of the control panel, the hero disappeared from sight.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly turning, Dick saw Bruce and Alfred waiting for him at the bottom of the staircase.  “Alfred, I know you still have a lot of things lined up to do today.  I’ll talk to Bruce.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes sir, I will be in the kitchen if you need me.”  The older man placed a foot on the first step before glancing back.  “Be delicate, Master Dick.  Remember your own childhood.”  With that, Alfred left his two lads alone.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>With a quick nod of his head, Dick motioned for Bruce to follow.  “Come on, Bruce.”  The boy climbed up after the man and walked into the study above the cave.  After they were both seated in the plush chairs by the fireplace, Dick leaned forward and spoke sternly to the boy.  “What did you think you were doing?  The cave is no place for games, Bruce.  I don’t want you to go down there without an adult again.  Do I make myself clear?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Bruce’s face flushed and anger glinted in his eyes.  “It’s my cave!”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”  Dick could almost swear he was in the presence of the Bat.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Isn’t it?” Bruce spat out.  “That’s my cave, not yours.  I can go in it whenever I want…Dick.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Dick stood up and walked to the window, keeping his back to the boy. This reaction was new.  He could handle the scared disillusioned child…but this miniaturized version of Batman?  Or was it just the child’s natural rebellious streak waking up?  Bruce’s memories were so tangled up that Dick could not be sure how much of his father was lost to him.  There was only one way to test it, so that’s what he decided to act upon.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Drawing in a deep breath, Dick turned swiftly back on the boy.  His voice dropped to a steely tone.  “Bruce Wayne, it’s time I lay some rules down.  I don’t like repeating myself, so you better listen and listen well.  Alfred, Barbara, and I are in charge of this house now…that includes every room on, above, and below the ground.  Whatever we say, we expect you to obey to the best of your ability.  If you don’t, there will be consequences.  You may not like it, but we are all bigger than you and are capable of thinking out situations in a mature manner.  So if I say you don’t go in the cave without an adult, you don’t go in the cave without an adult.  You disobey that rule and you’ll have to pay for it.  Is that clear enough for you?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Paling slightly, the boy sat with wide blue eyes staring up into the face of the provoked man.  Who was this man before him?  He knew only a few seconds ago.  But now…his mind blurred into confusing thoughts.  His son?  No.  Wait…his dad?  No.  Who?  Frustrated, Bruce yelled out, “Leave me alone!”  Picking up a paper weight on the edge of the coffee table, the boy, blinded by tears, threw it in the general direction of the offensive man.  After a satisfying crash, he stomped his foot and clenched his fists at his sides as he hollered, “You’re not the boss of me!”  With that, Bruce fled out of the room.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Too shocked to move, Dick glanced around the room wondering what he should do next.  He had seen the fear in Bruce’s eyes.  Then spying the paper weight lodged in a broken picture frame on the mantle, he walked over to the fireplace.  Carefully removing the photo from the debris, Dick frowned sadly.  Alfred had taken the picture on Dick’s twelfth birthday.  It had been one of the most cherished days of the young man’s life.  After a week of almost constant rain or drizzle, March twenty-first had dawned bright and clear.  So Bruce and Dick spent the day playing football on the muddy lawn of Wayne Manor.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Glancing back to the mantle, Dick noticed an envelope underneath the broken glass and frame.  With trembling hand, he lifted it up to view.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh Bruce,” he managed to whisper.  “I’m so sorry.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>That envelope held the letter he had written to his adopted father in case of his untimely death.  Even though he knew what the letter contained, Dick slid it out of the envelope and unfolded it.  The ink was smeared from a few small water stains.  Feeling his own threatening tears, Dick ran his fingers over the page.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Sir?  Is everything all right?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pivoting around to face Alfred, Dick shook his head as his tears began to fall.  “We’ve lost him, Alfred.  We’ve really lost him.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>To be continued…</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Growing Pains</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Chapter 5</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Growing Pains</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Bruce?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The boy quickly wiped the tears from his face, as the bedroom door creaked open.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Bruce…you okay?”  Despite his own melancholy mood, Dick stuck his head inside and tried to give a reassuring smile toward the small child.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Bruce’s only answer was a forlorn nod as he continued to dry his face with his shirtsleeve.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Moving over to the bed to sit down next to Bruce, Dick nervously cleared his throat.   He opened his mouth to say something, but then shut it again when no sound would escape.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” a small voice broke the silence.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Blinking in surprise, Dick glanced down at Bruce’s tear-stained face.  “You’re sorry?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I forgot,” Bruce whispered hoarsely.  “I couldn’t remember who you were and…and I got scared.”  Meeting Dick’s eyes, the little boy’s blue ones watered again.  “I’m sorry I yelled…I didn’t mean to…”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Pulling the boy into his lap, Dick soothed, “Hey everything’s okay.  No worries.  I know this is all new to you…it’s new to all of us.  I’m sorry for being so forceful, but I’m only trying to protect you.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>At first, Bruce flinched at those words.  Protect him?  A memory flashed.  An alleyway on a dark night.  His parents grabbing him back.  Stepping in between him and the gun.  Their protection cost them dearly…death.  “No,” Bruce spoke slowly.  “Don’t you see?  I don’t want you to protect me, Dick.  That’s not what I need.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It took Dick a few seconds to realize he was not speaking to a child, but the adult Bruce was awake and aware of his circumstances.  However, the young man could not be sure when his father would fade into a child’s mind again.  So he took advantage of the situation.  “Bruce, I miss you.  I don’t know what to do.  Everything happened so fast.  There was no contingency plan for…this!”  Shaking his head, he demanded, “And how am I not suppose to protect a child?  You’re not yourself, you know.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Bruce glared up at his son, but the result was not the same coming from a chubby boyish face.  “That’s not funny.  Of course I know I’m not myself.  I never thought this would happen.  I hated my childhood and this has been a nightmare.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh come on, it hasn’t been that bad.”  Looking a bit hurt, Dick questioned, “Wasn’t that game Candyland a lot of fun the other night?  You won like five times…”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Eight to be exact,” the boy broke in.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“See?  Eight!  And poor Alfred!”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Bruce giggled.  “He was stuck in the </span>
  <span>Molasses</span>
  
  <span>Swamp</span>
  <span> all night long!”  Suddenly, he caught himself laughing and straightened up.  “Well…it was quite an entertaining night.  Still, I can’t say that I’m thrilled about it.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Thrilled about it or not, the simple fact remains…your body is now that of a five year old.  And your mind is following suit.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Sighing, Bruce acknowledged, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.  It’s like one minute I remember everything and then the next I haven’t got a clue.”   Crossing his arms, the boy pouted, “I don’t like this at all.  I have no control.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Shrugging his shoulders, Dick suggested, “Maybe you should just let go.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?” Bruce demanded.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe you should just let go of trying to be in control all of the time and be what you are…a kid.”  Dick stood up and walked over to the window framing the beautiful front lawn of Wayne Manor.  “Bruce, you had a really bad childhood.  But you’ve been given a second chance now.  Together we can make this a better experience.  You have a chance to become the man your parents were raising you to be…Bruce Wayne…not Batman.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Following Dick to the window, Bruce reached up to grasp onto one of the young man’s hands.  “Without Batman, I’m just a scared little boy.  But if you’re here with me, I can be brave.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Giving the small hand a squeeze, Dick knelt down eye level and answered, “I’ll always be here and you are the bravest person I know.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>*******************************</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Stepping out of his door, Jim Gordon breathed in the crisp fall air and smiled.  He loved this time of year.  It made him feel lighter on his feet, despite the cane in his hand.  As he moved onto the sidewalk, a black hummer screeched to a halt in front of him.  Opening the passenger door, Gordon managed to climb into the oversized vehicle.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Perfect timing!” Barbara proclaimed, tapping at the clock on the dashboard.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“And how many laws were broken to get this tank here on time?” her father inquired.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh two or three,” she quipped.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Gordon gave a chuckle at his daughter’s wit.  He loved their teasing banter.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Barbara moved the hummer back onto the road, driving at a slower pace than she had arrived.  “So Dad, you know where we are going?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Wayne Manor,” he answered.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Barbara acknowledged.  Then she bit her lip and reached up a hand to twirl a lock of hair nervously.  “Dad, I’m supposed to tell you something.  But I’m not sure how much you already know.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Bruce Wayne was Batman.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Even though she suspected her father already knew this tidbit of information, Barbara was still shocked to hear him say it.  Flabbergasted, she managed to sputter, “Well, yeah…”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“And Dick was the first Robin.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course…”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Jason Todd was the second.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh-huh…”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I might know the third Robin…and I believe I will know for sure after tonight’s dinner party.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Dad, I don’t know what to say.”  Barbara shook her head in dismay.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You can start by telling me what’s really happened to Bruce and who this little </span>
  <span>rugrat</span>
  <span> is that’s been stashed away at Wayne Manor for a month now.”  Gordon lowered his eyes.  “I know Batman too well to think that he’s gone forever…and if he had a child, he would be there.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Barbara nervously gripped the steering wheel and bit her lip.  The whole truth and nothing but the truth would be accepted by her detective father.  “You’re right, Dad.  Bruce Wayne is not dead.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“So where is he?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Wayne Manor.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Is he hurt?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Barbara answered slowly.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Then why the wild story?  Something’s got to be wrong with him,” Gordon stated.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes and no.”  Deciding the direct approach was best, Barbara informed, “Bruce is the </span>
  <span>rugrat</span>
  <span>.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not funny, Barbara,” Gordon said sternly.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s not.”  She continued, “Dick was truly dead.  Bruce went crazy and somehow convinced Ra’s al </span>
  <span>Ghul</span>
  <span> to allow him to use one of those Lazarus pits.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“A what?” Gordon questioned.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“A Lazarus pit…it’s a mixture of ancient boiling chemicals that hold mystical powers to raise the dead or heal the dying.  But it will kill a healthy person.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”  She continued, “So Bruce planned to bring Dick back, but there was one condition.  He had to go in the pit with the body.”  Barbara stopped to allow her father to absorb all the new information.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“So he is dead,” Gordon acknowledged, grief breaking into his voice.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“No!  Bruce…being Bruce…fatally wounded himself before entering the pit.  But it was a really strong and very mystical pit because Bruce was not only healed…he was de-aged.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Jim Gordon blinked in disbelief as the wheels of his brain</span>
  <span> began to</span>
  <span> grind.  Turning shocked eyes to his daughter, he repeated, “He was de-aged.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Barbara merely nodded.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Shaking his head, all Gordon could do was mutter, “Now isn’t that a fine mess.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>*****************************</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Alfred!  Alfred, where are you?”  Dick walked down the hallway, shirt tail </span>
  <span>untucked</span>
  <span> and tie hanging haphazardly around his neck.  “I need help!”  He was almost even with Bruce’s bedroom door when Alfred’s not-so-amused face popped out.  “Oh there you are!  I really need…”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“To lower your voice,” Alfred whispered fiercely.  “Young children are trying to nap and your yammering is not helping.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Immediately shrinking back, Dick apologized, “I’m sorry.  I was just trying to get ready for tonight…</span>
  <span>waitaminute</span>
  <span>!”  Glancing down at his watch, the young man questioned, “Our guests will be arriving in thirty minutes and he’s still asleep?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s worn out, Master Dick.  That little body of his tires very easily.  You need to keep that in mind.”  Alfred perused the other man’s appearance.  “I thought you could at least manage to dress yourself, young sir.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I can!” Dick shot back.  “That’s not why I needed help.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Still giving his charge a critical eye, the gentleman’s gentleman returned, “Indeed.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Indeed,” Dick answered sarcastically.  “I’ll just go and let you get back to naptime.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Splendid idea, sir.”  Alfred grinned as he watched the young man walk back down the hallway.  Then he closed the bedroom door and returned to the chair beside the boy’s bed.  The grin had now faded and was replaced by worry.  When he had first returned to Wayne Manor a month ago, Leslie had checked Bruce out and told everyone he was fine.  But privately, she admitted to Alfred she could not be sure.  After all, it was mystic powers and chemicals that caused Bruce’s transformation.  Who knew what side effects he could suffer?  Alfred could not help but notice that Bruce did tire easily…easier than most five year olds.  So he made sure that the boy got plenty of rest during the day.  Dinner party or not, his boy would be allowed to have a good nap.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>*************</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Dick practically hopped down the last four steps and turned into the kitchen where he came to an abrupt halt.  The sink was full of dirty dishes, the stove splattered with sauce, the counter covered in flour, and the large stainless steel trash canister overflowing onto the floor.  Alfred’s kitchen was suddenly a foreign place.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Just then, the garage door opened and Tim stepped inside.  Noticing his older brother’s deer-caught-in-the-headlights look and the surrounding mess, he questioned, “Dude, what did you do?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Shaking his head adamantly, Dick claimed, “Nothing!  It was like this when I walked in just now.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>A nervous laugh escaped the teenager.  “Yeah right.  You are in </span>
  <span>soooo</span>
  <span> much trouble.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“But I-I…”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Save it for the </span>
  <span>Butler</span>
  <span>, Dick.”  Walking by the gawking man, Tim patted his back.  “You realize he’s going to kill you, right?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Watching the kitchen door swing shut behind Tim, Dick stood dumbfounded.  “But I-I didn’t do it,” he finally whispered.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>***********</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Blinking his eyes opened, Bruce felt a warm hand touch his forehead and then Alfred’s face came into focus.  His arms stretched out as he yawned.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“How are we feeling after our rest, young man?” the older man asked in a cheerful voice.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Sitting up, Bruce smiled and said, “Like a million bucks.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>A sense of nostalgia washed over Alfred.  Years ago, Thomas Wayne had always answered such questions with that same response as did his son until </span>
  <span>the tragic night the boy lost his </span>
  <span>parents</span>
  <span> and innocence.</span>
  <span>  He was brought back to the present by a light knock on the door.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this a private party?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Tim!” Bruce called out happily.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Alfred could not help but </span>
  <span>chuckle</span>
  <span> at the child’s obvious delight and the teenager’s confusion</span>
  <span>.  The older man pulled out his pocket watch and stood up straightening his waistcoat.  “Master Timothy, I have laid out Master Bruce’s evening attire on the dresser.  Please go run some bath water and assist him in dressing.  I shall…”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Whoa!” Tim held out his hands in resistance.  “You’re wanting me to give him a bath?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>With a stern glare, Alfred countered, “It is not polite to interrupt, young sir.  And Master Bruce is fully capable of washing himself with soap and water.  However, you do need to help make sure the water is not too hot or cold, make sure he does indeed use the soap, and help him dress.  Although I am fairly certain he can pull up his own underwear if that is what is troubling.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course I can pull up my own underwear!” Bruce stated with indignation.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Now, I shall be downstairs if you should have need of me,” Alfred finished with a deep breath.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Just a warning,” Tim called out as the butler was leaving the room.  “Dick’s gone and made a mess of things…again.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Shaking his head, Alfred muttered, “And to think I could be on Broadway.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>*********</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Suit jacket slung over a nearby chair and sleeves rolled up to his elbows, </span>
  <span>Dick stood over</span>
  <span> the kitchen sink scrubbing a large pot with a sudsy sponge.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Alfred briskly walked through the door and quietly began to clean up the cluttered counter spaces.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Casting a wary eye toward the old gentleman, Dick nervously denied the unspoken charges.  “I didn’t make this mess, Alfred.  Honest!  It was just here when I walked in a few min…”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Quite right,” Alfred interrupted.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You are quite right.”  Tying up the garbage bag with a twist tie, the older man smiled wearily at his now oldest charge.  “I am afraid, young sir, the afternoon’s activities have prevented me from my usual promptness in the daily housekeeping.”  With a wink, he added, “It is so good of you to help out.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Blinking his surprise away, Dick’s brain finally took in the implication of the situation.  “Alfred?  Are you okay?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Despite all efforts, Alfred could not hide the exhaustion on his face.  “Nothing dramatic, my boy.  I am just not as spry as I once had been…almost 35 years ago…It’s hard to believe the years past by so fast.”  A distant look twinkled in his eyes.  “I thought that little boy was gone forever.  And now…”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Alfred,” Dick’s voice brought the old man’s attention back to the present.  “Don’t wear yourself too thin.  If you need help, just say so.  We’ll come up with something.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“As long as I have a few extra hands to keep the Manor neat and orderly and Master Bruce fairly out of trouble, there should be a few more years good in me.”</span>
  <span>  Placing a gentle hand on Dick’s shoulder, he added with a light tone, “Then perhaps I can graduate into a more grandfatherly role…with a few new chubby babies to spoil</span>
  <span>, not raise</span>
  <span>.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Blushing slightly, Dick returned his attention to scrubbing the dishes piled into the sink.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>**************************</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>**SPLASH**</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey!”  Tim glared down at the boy sitting in a tub overrunning with bubbles.  “Be careful!”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Bruce said, sporting a very unapologetic grin.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Glancing at his watch, the annoyed teenager questioned, “Are you about done?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Bruce simply shook his head as he dived another rubber duck and frog off the </span>
  <span>hot water tap.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Look, dude…”  Tim reached over and grabbed one of the boy’s hands.  “You are turning into a prune.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I am NOT a prune!”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you’re </span>
  <span>wrinklin</span>
  <span>’ up like one!”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Sighing heavily, Bruce pulled the plug.  “I never get to have any fun.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s the understatement of the century.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“The what?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Snorting, Tim said, “Nothing.  Come on and let’s get you dried off.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Bruce climbed out of the tub and tumbled into the waiting towel.  After a few minutes of mopping the water off his skin, Tim gently shoved the boy in the direction of the door leading to the child’s bedroom.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>With an evil smirk, Bruce turned toward his reluctant caregiver.  “Um…Tim…I think I might need some help…you know…putting on my underwear.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Brat!”  Tim tossed a pair of </span>
  <span>Green Lantern</span>
  
  <span>underoos</span>
  <span> at</span>
  <span> the</span>
  
  <span>youngster.  “Besides, I have it on good authority that you most certainly do know how to put on your own underwear.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Frowing</span>
  <span> down at the offered </span>
  <span>undies</span>
  <span>, Bruce muttered, </span>
  <span>“No Superman</span>
  <span> or Batman…or Robin</span>
  <span>?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s what Alfred set out.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.”  Without further argument, the boy began to dress.  Just as Tim was helping button the crisp white shirt, the doorbell rang throughout the house.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Bruce dashed away to the window.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey now, Squirt!  We’re almost done!” Tim protested, as he followed.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Who’s that?” Bruce asked, pointing down at the couple waiting </span>
  <span>outside </span>
  <span>in front of the large double doors.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Lois and Clark.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Who?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Bending down and continuing to button the shirt, Tim hinted, “Remember?  It’s a bird!  It’s a plane!  It’s…”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Superman!”</span>
  <span>  Bruce</span>
  <span>’s</span>
  <span> face scrunched in confusion.  “He’s married…and I don’t think she likes me.  The dog doesn’t like me either.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry,” Tim reassured.  “So far, most people are finding you much more agreeable this way.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s a good thing, right?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The absolute innocence of the question and expression on the boy’s face made Tim laugh out loud.  Messing Bruce’s towel dried hair, he nodded, “It’s a great thing.”</span>
  
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>***********</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>To be continued…</span>
  
  
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Diving Head First</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Waves of Change<br/><br/>Chapter 6<br/><br/>Diving Head First<br/><br/><br/><br/>Wayne Manor<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Kent, so wonderful to see you<br/>again." Alfred motioned the couple into the foyer of Wayne Manor.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Likewise, Alfred," Clark returned, while placing a gentle hand<br/>on the older man's shoulder. "How's our wayward munchkin<br/>getting along?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Rested and in rare form, I should say." Reaching for Lois'<br/>coat, the butler smiled affectionately at the thought of his smallest<br/>charge.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Thank you," Lois said, as Alfred turned to hang her coat on the<br/>rack by the door. She was extremely curious about meeting Bruce's<br/>child identity. The reporter in her screamed to be let out. However,<br/>she knew this was a story that could never be written…at least not<br/>for another thousand years.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"You are quite welcome, my dear. Now, Master Dick is waiting in the<br/>den."<br/><br/><br/><br/>As the three began to walk past the stairs toward the living room, a<br/>sudden commotion upstairs caught their attention.<br/><br/><br/><br/>**********<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Bruce, wait!" Holding a pair of small dress shoes, Tim<br/>sprinted down the hall after his sock-footed prey. "You've got<br/>to put your shoes on!"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Ignoring his antagonist, Bruce darted toward the balcony overlooking the<br/>foyer. As he approached, he could see Alfred leading Lois and Clark<br/>past the stairway. Without hesitation, the little boy picked up speed<br/>and leaped onto the railing. Kicking out, he flew into the open air<br/>beneath the foyer's vaulted ceiling.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Clark!"<br/><br/><br/><br/>**********<br/><br/><br/><br/>Alfred, Lois, and Clark perceived the motion before hearing the boyish<br/>shout of laughter and excitement.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Clark!"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Spying Bruce sailing through the air, Alfred called out, "Heavens!<br/>No Bruce!"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Lois gasped. A sudden chill ran down her spine, caused by fear and a<br/>rush of wind at her side.<br/><br/><br/><br/>Clark appeared mid-air with little Bruce grasping on piggy-back style.<br/>Just like the man he had once been, this little boy was practically<br/>fearless of his physical wellbeing. Apprehensively, Clark thought about<br/>the implications this could have for the fragile body of a five year<br/>old. But for now, he held his tongue, knowing that Alfred would more<br/>than likely be doing the scolding.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Wow! Let's do it again!" The boy giggled with pure<br/>delight until an angry voice sounded above him.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Bruce Wayne! What were you thinking?" Leaning over the<br/>balcony rail, Tim was still wide-eyed with shock. "Don't do<br/>that ever again! It's not safe!"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Shrugging, Bruce casually countered, "But Tim, he's Superman.<br/>He wasn't gonna let me fall."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Clark silently touched down beside Alfred, who immediately grabbed the<br/>boy and placed him firmly on the ground.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Master Bruce, I don't care who it is you may see in the foyer<br/>or anywhere else for that matter. You simply cannot leap from that<br/>great of a height. Master Timothy is correct. It is extremely<br/>dangerous." Shaking the boy's shoulders slightly, Alfred<br/>sternly drove home his point, "Never again. Is that clear?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Glancing sheepishly around at the adults, Bruce muttered, "It<br/>wasn't that high. Not like I jumped off Wayne Tower without a line<br/>or back up or…"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Sir?" Alfred warned, "Have I made myself clear?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Okay!" The boy huffed out his frustration. "I won't<br/>jump off the second floor banister again. Happy?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Ecstatic." Maintaining his deadpan features and tone, Alfred<br/>excused himself to the kitchen, all the while mumbling about heart<br/>attacks and early graves.<br/><br/><br/><br/>**********<br/><br/><br/><br/>Oval Office<br/><br/><br/><br/>"I know it's a risk, Chuck…" the man spoke confidently into<br/>the phone, as he swiveled around in his chair. "But if we all stick<br/>together everyone comes out a winner."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Listening to the other side of the conversation, he nodded his head and<br/>sympathetically replied, "You are right. Bruce Wayne has been very<br/>good to his company's employees and supporters. But Bruce is dead<br/>now, and his legacy will soon die too if we fail to act. That is the<br/>very reason why I am doing this…as a friend, I would hate to see<br/>Bruce's life's work go to waste on that horrid ward…"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Again, he listened patiently. "Yes, I'm sure Mr. Grayson is a<br/>fine young man. However, his background does not provide him with the<br/>stability and knowledge it takes to keep a company as expansive as Wayne<br/>Enterprises afloat. He may very well mean well…but as they say,<br/>`the road of good intentions…'"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Another interruption from the other end brought a sigh from his lips.<br/>Swiveling back around to place elbows on his desk, he rolled his eyes.<br/><br/>The man began to lose his gentle tone. His words took on a hard edge.<br/>"Chuck, I'm giving you an opportunity here. You are either with<br/>us or against us. So far, three board members have agreed. Morgan<br/>Washington was the first. You know how business savvy he is…he<br/>believes this is for the best."<br/><br/><br/><br/>After a few more exchanges and a brief goodbye, he placed the phone onto<br/>the receiver. Out of the eight top board members and shareholders, only<br/>three were ready to cooperate. Still, he would have Wayne Enterprises<br/>for his own. The longer Bruce Wayne was dead, the faster loyalty to<br/>Gotham's favorite martyred son would die out as well. President<br/>Luthor just needed to wait it out and play it smart.<br/><br/><br/><br/>*********<br/><br/><br/><br/>Meanwhile, back at the Manor…<br/><br/><br/><br/>While Dick and Clark droned on endlessly about the Justice League, Lois<br/>frowned as she watched the little boy sitting on the couch. He<br/>struggled to slip his feet into the black shoes. She could tell how<br/>frustrated he had become by the way his face scrunched and his forehead<br/>wrinkled. Aside from her, none of the adults in the room seemed to<br/>notice as he finally flung the offending footwear to the ground and<br/>crossed his arms.<br/><br/><br/><br/>Straightening her shoulders, Lois walked away from her husband's<br/>side unnoticed. She sat down on the couch beside Bruce and picked up<br/>one of the shoes. "You know, Clark has a pair of shoes just like<br/>this and he always has trouble getting them on."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Turning a skeptic eye to the woman next to him, Bruce questioned,<br/>"Really? Superman has trouble putting on his shoes?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Well, don't tell him I said anything," Lois whispered.<br/>"It kinda embarrasses him a bit."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Bruce allowed a half smile to form. "I bet it's because his<br/>feet are so big."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Pulling the tongue of the shoe forward and opening it wide, Lois nodded.<br/>"He practically wears clown shoes." She easily popped the shoe<br/>onto Bruce's foot.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Superman wears clown shoes?" The boy fell back on the couch<br/>laughing.<br/><br/><br/><br/>Lois began to tie the laces. "Shhh, not so loud. You know he hears<br/>everything!"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Chancing a glance in Clark's direction, Bruce shook his head.<br/>"Don't worry. He's still talking to Dick about boring<br/>stuff."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Reaching down for the other shoe, the reporter pointed her head toward<br/>the two men. "You're right. No major stories there. At least<br/>not ones I can touch." Opening the second shoe and holding it out,<br/>she prompted, "Here you go."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Bruce took it and placed his foot inside. He waited expectantly for<br/>Lois to tie it as she had done with the first.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Oh no," Lois refused. "This time you have to at least try.<br/>I'll talk you through it."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"But I can't! I've tried! My fingers don't work<br/>right!"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Hmm…I guess I must be confusing you with someone else. I'm<br/>sorry; I thought you were Bruce Wayne."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"I am Bruce Wayne!"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"No," Lois replied slowly. "No, you can't be Bruce<br/>Wayne. Because I know Bruce very well and he is not a quitter. His<br/>motto is always to try and try again…even harder."<br/><br/><br/><br/>For a moment, the boy's features darkened with anger, but<br/>determination finally won out and he reached for the shoelaces.<br/><br/><br/><br/>Lois directed him and a few times actually guided his hands and fingers.<br/>As the boy pulled the laces into the final bow, his face broke into a<br/>full smile.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"I did it!"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"What did you do, squirt?" Dick was now standing over beside<br/>the couch looking down at its occupants.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Lookit! I tied my shoe!" Bruce stuck his foot into the air<br/>toward the young man.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Wow! All by yourself?" Dick knelt and held the boy's shod<br/>foot.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Well," Bruce shrugged sheepishly. "Lois helped me."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Only a little," the woman confessed as she stood up beside her<br/>husband.<br/><br/><br/><br/>Clark happily wrapped his arm around her waist and said with a smile,<br/>"You know, Bruce, Lois has to help me put on my big clown shoes<br/>almost every morning."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Lois punched her man in the arm, while Bruce began to giggle.<br/><br/><br/><br/>After a few minutes of idle talk, Lois pulled her husband aside as she<br/>watched the boy play-fight with Tim and Dick.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Honey, I know he was one of your best friends...but you do<br/>realize," she said, pointing toward Bruce. "…this is not him.<br/>I mean, maybe physically the DNA is the same, but as far as<br/>knowledge…" Shaking her head, she mused sadly, "One of the<br/>world's greatest minds reduced to the level of a five year old. Do<br/>you think he can even fathom what he has lost?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Clark thought for a moment and then slowly answered, "I'm not<br/>sure that's the question."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Then what is?" Lois demanded.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Does he know how much he has gained?" Clark asked.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Gained? Are you seeing what I am?" Lois pointedly stared at<br/>the couch where Dick and Tim were engaged in a tickle fight with Bruce.<br/>"He's a child again. He's having to learn everything all<br/>over. Clark, he couldn't even dress himself!" She whispered<br/>fiercely, "He's lost everything!"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Not everything, Lois. He's just lost the things that held him<br/>back from true happiness and joy. But in exchange, he's gained an<br/>opportunity to have those very things. Bruce has a second chance."<br/>Watching the boy pounce on the couch and grab at Tim who playfully<br/>seized him back, Clark added, "He'll grow up feeling safe,<br/>protected, loved…but most important, Bruce will never have to feel<br/>alone or abandoned. He'll grow up to be a vital part of a big<br/>family and will feel free to love. That's all he's ever really<br/>wanted."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"But he won't be the same person," Lois reasoned.<br/>"Those experiences from long ago, no matter how tragic, helped shape<br/>the Bruce Wayne who was your friend. That friend is<br/>gone…forever."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"I know," Clark admitted quietly. "I'll miss him. I<br/>won't deny that. But I know he's now resting in peace.<br/>He's not in pain anymore. That will help lessen the load."<br/><br/><br/><br/>************<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Need help with that, Alfred?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Oh! Mr. Gordon, I am terribly sorry. I was not aware you had<br/>arrived, sir." Alfred began to set the food laden platter down.<br/>"Let me show you into the…"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Don't even think about," the other man interrupted. "I<br/>came in here to help. And you know it's `Jim.' Now, what<br/>needs to be done?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Alfred began to protest again, when the kitchen door swung open and Dick<br/>entered carrying Bruce in his arms. The little boy was crying softly<br/>and holding his forehead. Blood seeped through the chubby fingers<br/>covering the apparent injury.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"What happened?" Alfred exclaimed. "Master Bruce, please<br/>tell me you did not go flying from the second floor balcony again."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Through hiccupping sobs, Bruce whined indignantly, "No! *hiccup* I<br/>told you *hiccup* I wouldn't!"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Dick placed his sniffling bundle onto the counter. "It was the<br/>couch and he fell head first into the coffee table." When Alfred<br/>stepped forward, Dick moved slightly sideways and turned toward Jim,<br/>offering his hand for a quick shake. "Hello, Mr. Gordon."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Jim."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Looking back at Bruce, Dick questioned, "What about the<br/>balcony?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Ignoring the question, Bruce's watery eyes were now locked onto Jim<br/>Gordon's face. It was familiar…in more ways than one.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Hello, Bruce," the retired commissioner greeted the boy in a<br/>friendly voice.<br/><br/><br/><br/>A flash of memory invaded the youngster's mind. It took him back to<br/>a time almost forgotten…to a night he wished he could erase from<br/>time. But he couldn't. It had happened. Although it was a<br/>lifetime ago, it still felt as fresh and painful as the cut on his head.<br/>Woodenly, he spoke, "You were there. At the police station. That<br/>night." He flinched slightly as Alfred dabbed at the gash on his<br/>forehead. "You put Daddy's coat on me."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Jim gazed sorrowfully at the child. "Yes, I did."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Alfred and Dick exchanged looks. Bruce had never shared this memory<br/>with them. Neither said anything, as both men knew when to keep silent.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"I didn't know it was you," Bruce confessed softly.<br/>"Not until just now. All along…I didn't know…"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"When I realized you were Batman, I think that's why I kept<br/>playing along. I knew the reason why you were out there, what was<br/>driving you so hard. There was a connection. I had looked into your<br/>eyes and saw the devastation." Gordon placed a hand on the<br/>boy's shoulder. "You were a good boy, Bruce. I could see it<br/>that night. And I prayed you would grow into a good man." With a<br/>gentle pat and squeeze, he stated, "God listened the first time.<br/>I'm positive He will listen a second."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"You knew I was Batman?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"It took years of detective work, but I finally put two and two<br/>together."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Told you he knew," Dick bragged.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Know-it-all!"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Dick snorted and then turned slightly serious. "So what's this<br/>I hear about you jumping from the balcony?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Oh that." Bruce squirmed uncomfortably on the counter as<br/>Alfred continued to clean his coffee table wound. "Everybody<br/>freaked out because I got Clark to catch me. It's not like he was<br/>gonna miss."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Alfred exhaled deeply. "Master Bruce, hold still, and I believe you<br/>are leaving out some rather important details."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Like what?" the boy demanded.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"For a start, you ran down the hall and leaped from the railing<br/>before informing Master Clark of your plan…let alone anyone<br/>else."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Dick's eyes widened. "Bruce Wayne! What were you<br/>thinking?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Glaring at the young man, Bruce muttered, "You sound like Tim."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Well, it wasn't a very safe or smart thing to do."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"I don't see why everyone is so upset. I knew Clark would catch<br/>me. Why's everyone treating me like I'm…a…child…"<br/>Bruce stammered off with a pouting face.<br/><br/><br/><br/>Jim grinned easily at the adolescent. "Because you are…and<br/>that's perfectly okay."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Indeed," Alfred agreed as he placed the last of three tiny<br/>butterfly band-aids across Bruce's cut. "Not even worth<br/>stitches or switches." Pointing to the platters of food, the butler<br/>announced, "Now, I believe we have guests to feed."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Within minutes everyone was seated at the expansive dining room table.<br/>Casual conversation flowed easily as they devoured the delicious food.<br/><br/><br/><br/>After the dinner plates had been cleared from the table and dessert<br/>passed around, Dick cleared his throat and ordered, "Alfred, sit<br/>down please. I've got something to tell everybody." The young<br/>man saw he had the room's attention with the exception of one little<br/>boy. Bruce was eagerly stuffing spoonfuls of pudding into his mouth.<br/>Cracking a grin, Dick spoke sincerely, "First, I want to thank<br/>everyone here. All of you have been supportive and helpful. I know<br/>this hasn't been easy…from the beginning…the fight, my death<br/>and return…to the flying squirrel sitting here at the table to my<br/>left."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Aside from Bruce, everyone chuckled.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"I said I was sorry," Bruce mumbled, pudding smeared across one<br/>cheek and down his chin.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"I'm teasing, squirt." Dick laughed and ruffled the<br/>boy's hair. Then taking a deep breath, he plunged ahead seriously.<br/>"It's been a little over two months and I'm starting to get<br/>my bearings. It's high time that Nightwing and Batman start pulling<br/>their weight again."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Even though he remained silent, Bruce's face fell. Batman was<br/>needed. That was true enough. But…so soon? He rather liked living<br/>life without the Bat. It was much more fun and not quite so demanding.<br/>Besides, there was so much to learn and see and do that he just<br/>didn't feel confident about Batman anymore.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"I'll still need some help. I've been out of the loop for<br/>what seems like ages." Dick gave Tim a questioning glance.<br/>"How're the injuries? Will Robin be able to assist soon?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Give me another two weeks or so and I'll be out there with<br/>you," the teenager promised.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Great!" Turning to Clark, the young man said, "And like we<br/>talked about earlier, I'll stop by the Watch Tower only for the<br/>regular meetings until things are well under control here. That way, I<br/>can get to understand how the Justice League works first and not just<br/>jump in blindly."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Bruce smiled at this information. He always knew Dick would be a great<br/>addition to the Justice League. After all, Nightwing was the best<br/>superhero, he thought. He was sooooo cool! Maybe some good came out of<br/>all this yucky business after all. With happy thoughts for the rest of<br/>the evening, Bruce watched the guests leave one by one. Finally, he was<br/>shuffled off to bed to dream about adventures to come.<br/><br/><br/><br/>***********<br/><br/><br/><br/>"NOOOOOO!"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Dick sat straight up in bed.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"GO AWAY! LEAVE ME ALONE!"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Barbara followed suit.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"DON'T TOUCH ME!"<br/><br/><br/><br/>She watched as Dick leaped out of bed and headed toward the door.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"HELP! DADDY, HELP ME! MOMMY!"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Sighing, Barbara swung herself over to the side of the bed using upper<br/>body strength. "At least he stayed in his room," she muttered,<br/>reaching out for her wheelchair.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"ALFRED!"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"And yet another break-through," she added sarcastically.<br/>Barbara knew that for all intents and purposes Bruce was a child and a<br/>traumatized one to boot. Yet, she was still very angry with the adult<br/>Bruce for the way he had reacted to Dick's death months ago. Now,<br/>Barbara felt trapped. She needed to resolve her resentment and<br/>fury…but this little boy was not truly responsible. Was he?<br/>Everybody else seemed so enthralled with pint-sized Bruce, so really<br/>there was no one to even give a sympathetic ear to her rants.<br/>Unfortunately, all that rage was just building up inside of Barbara,<br/>ready to explode.<br/><br/><br/><br/>Rolling down the hall, she stopped just short of going into the little<br/>boy's room. Instead, she paused on the threshold, listening to the<br/>drama being played out inside.<br/><br/><br/><br/>*******<br/><br/><br/><br/>"It's okay, Bruce. I'm here," Dick soothed as he held<br/>the frightened boy in his arms.<br/><br/><br/><br/>Fiercely shaking his head, Bruce argued, "No, it's<br/>not…he…he was gonna eat me!"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Who was going to eat you?" Dick questioned curiously.<br/><br/><br/><br/>Looking up and whispering conspiratorially, the boy answered,<br/>"That…that crocodile…" He took a moment to gulp.<br/>"He's under my bed."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Fighting the smile that formed on his face, Dick said, "Is that so?<br/>There's a crocodile? Under this very bed?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Warring emotions and intelligence played across Bruce's face.<br/>"I…I think so…" Hurt and anger won out. "You're<br/>making fun of me. I can't help that it's real!"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Becoming serious, Dick nodded his head, "Pretty scary dream,<br/>huh?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Bruce's tired blue eyes stared off into space. "Batman and Croc<br/>were fighting…"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Killer Croc?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Yeah." The little head bobbed up and down. "They were<br/>fighting…but I…I could feel it…and…and then Croc held<br/>Batman up…"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Dick waited patiently as Bruce took a deep breath.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"But it was me, Dick! He was gonna eat me!"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"You're probably just remembering something from the past,"<br/>the young man explained. "Nothing to be afraid of…I'm sure<br/>Batman got away, because you're still here. Right?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>With the memory still fresh in his mind, Bruce asked apprehensively,<br/>"Do you really think Batman's ready to fight again?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Don't you?" Dick asked. "He needs to make some kind of<br/>an appearance. The bad guys will start to talk if he doesn't show<br/>up soon."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"I suppose," the boy sighed. "I just don't know how<br/>I'm going to do it."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"What?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Well, it's not like I'm all that strong and I don't<br/>really remember all that kung fu stuff and…I'm kinda too<br/>small…"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Dick began to laugh, tears sliding down his face.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"What's so funny?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Hugging the boy to him, Dick explained, "Bruce, I guess I need to<br/>clear this up. When I said `Batman' would be going out again, I<br/>didn't mean you."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Cocking his head to the side in order to look up at his guardian, Bruce<br/>wondered, "Really? Then who did you mean?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Blushing slightly and feeling awkwardly foolish, Dick confessed,<br/>"Well…me."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"You're going to be Batman?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Is that okay?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Breathing a sigh of relief, the boy smiled brightly. "That's<br/>the best news I've heard all night!"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Dick returned the smile. "I had you nervous, huh?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Just a little."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Well, you can rest easy now. Let's get you back under the<br/>covers. You've got a long day ahead of you tomorrow."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"What's tomorrow?" Bruce chirped, sliding his feet under the<br/>sheets.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Shopping with Alfred," Dick casually stated. "Apparently,<br/>you need `proper' p.j.'s."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Sighing, Bruce settled back on his pillows, watching Dick turn off the<br/>lamp and leave the room. How could he rest easy now…knowing<br/>tomorrow he would have to face the outside world?<br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/>TBC…</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. It's a Big City</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Waves of Change</p><p>Chapter 7</p><p>It's a Big City</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Zipping into his apartment, Wally West checked the answering machine.  After he impatiently clicked through several messages for Linda, his nano-second tapping foot stilled and his head whipped around as a familiar voice began to play.</p><p> </p><p>"Hey Wally, just calling to see if you want to come over tonight and watch the game.  Tim's going to be here and Babs, too.  Linda and Bart are more than welcome to join."  There was a brief awkward silence, followed by a quiet sigh.  "I'm sorry for not calling sooner.  I know waiting's not really your strongest suit…but thanks for giving me time to sort things out.  Um…well, anyway, about tonight…I know it's short notice, but I really want to watch this game with my best friend.  So just let me know how many pizzas to order, `kay?  Later!"</p><p> </p><p>BEEEEEP</p><p>"End of messages."</p><p> </p><p>Wally couldn't help the smile that spread across his face.  His best friend needed him.  "Linda!  We're going to Gotham!  I'm calling Bart!"</p><p> </p><p>*************</p><p> </p><p>Entering the playroom, Alfred looked down at the child crashing toy cars on the racing mat.  "Ah!  There you are, Master Bruce.  Are we ready to go on our little excursion?" </p><p> </p><p>Bruce glanced up curiously.  "Our execution?"</p><p> </p><p>The old man shook his head in amusement.  "Excursion…a trip, adventure, an outing."</p><p> </p><p>"A trip?  Where to?" Bruce questioned apprehensively.</p><p> </p><p>"We must find you some proper night attire and there are a few other errands to which I must attend."</p><p> </p><p>"Will there be a lot of people?"</p><p> </p><p>"It's a big city, Master Bruce.  I should think many people will be out and about this morning."  Alfred bent down and began to pick up the scattered race cars.</p><p> </p><p>Bruce slowly started to help put his cars away.  "Do I have to go, Alfred?"</p><p> </p><p>Looking intently at the boy, the wise man noticed something behind the wide blue eyes…fear.  "I'm afraid there will be no one here to look after you.  Master Dick has gone to work, Miss Barbara is at the Clocktower, and Master Timothy is spending time with his father."</p><p> </p><p>"What about Jean Paul?"</p><p> </p><p>"He is assisting Dr. Leslie at the clinic today."</p><p> </p><p>"Cassandra?" Bruce asked hopefully.</p><p> </p><p>"No, Master Bruce.  She'll be resting for most of the day.  From my understanding, she had a rather busy night."</p><p> </p><p>"Oh."  The boy frowned deeply and rubbed the cut and bruise on his forehead.  Speaking quietly, he simply stated, "You know, I don't mind sleeping in old T-shirts."</p><p> </p><p>Placing a finger under the boy's chin to lift his head, Alfred gazed at Bruce's face.  "Are you frightened?"</p><p> </p><p>Averting his eyes, Bruce shrugged.  "I don't know."</p><p> </p><p>"You must leave the house sometime, my dear boy.  We simply cannot keep you stashed away forever."  Checking the injury from the night before, Alfred produced antibiotic cream and a new band-aid from his pocket.</p><p> </p><p>"I don't want people looking at me.  It bothers me."  As Alfred tended to his cut, Bruce pleaded, "Do I really have to go Alfred?  Can't I just go visit the moon or Jim or Clark?"</p><p> </p><p>At first, the old man was tempted to give into the child.  Yet, had he not done that the first time around?  Where had that gotten them?  No, Alfred would not allow history to repeat itself.  Better he help Bruce face his fears head-on, instead of teaching him to avoid today's worries.  "Come now, Master Bruce."  Finished with his doctoring, Alfred motioned the boy to follow him.  "The sooner that we leave, the sooner we shall return."</p><p> </p><p>Bruce sighed, but trailed along behind his long-time friend and guardian.</p><p> </p><p>***********</p><p> </p><p>Dick sat behind the large executive desk, staring at the photos Bruce had meticulously placed on the edge of his workspace and on the nearby shelves of the high-rise office.  Some of the frames held recent pictures, while others were generations old.  Bruce's parents, Dick's school pictures, Alfred and Dr. Leslie, Tim and his prom date all smiled back at Dick.  These photos…this office…this company was Bruce's.  How could Dick even hope to accomplish anything on this level?  What had made Bruce think that some circus brat could take over for him someday? </p><p> </p><p>Dick placed his head in his hands.  "You're way out of your league, Grayson."</p><p> </p><p>About to give up and go home, Dick's eye caught a small photograph, yellowed with age.  It was in a frame placed almost completely behind a row of books.  Dick recognized it.  Alfred had shown him that picture a long time ago.  The old man had explained how special the portrait was to `Master Bruce.'  It was the last picture taken of Thomas and Martha Wayne and their son, only a week before that tragic night.  However, it had also been explained that Bruce kept the picture almost completely out of sight; only on rare occasions did the man allow himself to dwell on happier times.</p><p> </p><p>Dick reached up and took the picture down from its hiding place.  Holding it up for closer inspection, Dick could immediately see the resemblance of the eight year old boy to his five year old Bruce.  The same black hair, with a cowlick above his forehead...a sprinkling of freckles barely visible…the curious, yet slightly serious deep blue eyes…it was all there…even to the mischievous lop-sided grin.</p><p> </p><p>"For your sake, Bruce.  I'll keep this place going.  You'll be able to take it back one day.  I promise," Dick vowed softly to the boy in the photograph.  Gently, he began to pack away the other pictures into a box.  In order to work here, Dick needed to make this office his own space.  However, he hesitated to place the small Wayne portrait with the others.  With great care, Dick finally placed the frame at the helm of the desk.  Now, the young man could see the very reason he was here every day…duty brought him to this place.</p><p> </p><p>*********</p><p> </p><p>Sitting in the backseat of the Rolls-Royce Phantom VI, Bruce nervously gazed out the window.  Alfred was driving them past the gates of Wayne Manor, leaving the comfort of the secluded grounds.</p><p> </p><p>Biting his lower lip, Bruce searched the outside world, expecting to find danger only a few feet away from his safe haven.  "Can't we go back?  Really, Alfred…I don't care what I sleep in."</p><p> </p><p>As they continued further away from the mansion, Alfred responded pleasantly, "Now Master Bruce, I rather thought you would like to leave the manor for the morning.  You have pouted for days, describing how bored you have become in those tight quarters.  Besides, this is a big world and it is best if you get your bearings now.  The longer you wait, the harder it shall become."</p><p> </p><p>"I don't like this," Bruce confessed in a shaky voice.  "We really should go back."</p><p> </p><p>"We all have to do things we do not like from time to time.  Now be a good lad and enjoy the ride," Alfred gently reprimanded.</p><p> </p><p>********</p><p>From behind a row of bushes, a quarter mile away from Wayne Manor's front gate, a hidden man lowered his binoculars.  "Fred, they're on the move.  They're taking the silver Phantom.  It's the boy.  We'll finally get a good chance to introduce him to the world."  Walking briskly to his car, which was parked in the tree line, he spoke into his phone again.  "Call Jackie and tell her to clear a section for the front page.  We'll have her pictures by this afternoon."</p><p> </p><p>He waited patiently until he saw the $400,000 plus car pass by.  Slowly counting to 15, he pulled out and followed at a comfortable distance behind the luxury car.</p><p> </p><p>********</p><p> </p><p>Swallowing, Bruce watched as the trees slowly morphed into the suburban houses, and then into the shops and businesses of Bristol.  He could make out the towering Gotham City skyline in the distance.  How far would Alfred take him?  His small hands began to shake.  He felt his heart racing, causing rapid short breaths.  Bruce did not understand why they both had to go to the city.  He had told Alfred he couldn't do this--he was not ready!</p><p> </p><p>"I wanna go home, Alfred!"  The little boy drew his knees to his chest.  "Please take me home!"</p><p> </p><p>Sighing, Alfred continued to drive.  "Master Bruce, we are almost to our first stop.  I promise you, nothing bad will happen.  I will be by your side the entire time."  Then, he added with a smile, "and perhaps you may want a new toy…that is, if you behave yourself in the store."</p><p> </p><p>Like all children, Bruce's eyes widened at the prospect of receiving a new toy.  "What kind of toy?"</p><p> </p><p>"Whatever your heart so desires, my dear boy," the old man promised.  Alfred pulled into a parking spot, stopped the car and turned around to pat the boy's knee.  "Just stay with me and everything will be fine."</p><p> </p><p>Looking up at Alfred with trusting eyes, Bruce nodded his head.</p><p> </p><p>**********</p><p> </p><p>The man drove past the luxury car and its occupants.  Going a little further down the street, he pulled into a parking space and yanked up his waiting camera from the passenger's seat.  With his free hand, he quickly called his colleague.</p><p> </p><p>"Fred, it's Jerry.  They're at Heights Kid…yeah, that high-end kids' toy and clothing store in Bristol…'kay, see you in a few."  The man pocketed his phone and stepped behind a large potted plant on the sidewalk.  As soon as the little boy placed one foot on the pavement, Jerry's camera would be ready.</p><p> </p><p>*********</p><p> </p><p>Alfred opened the rear door and held out his hand.  "Come along, Master Bruce," he invited warmly.</p><p> </p><p>The boy snuck a peek at the busy sidewalk.  Gingerly, Bruce placed his hand in his guardian's.  Sliding out of the vehicle, he held tight to Alfred and tried his best to ignore the crowds of prying eyes of the people walking past.</p><p> </p><p>********</p><p> </p><p>Unnoticed by his target, Jerry silently snapped photo after photo of the little boy and the old man.  Money signs began to swim in his thoughts.  The <em>Inquisitor</em> paid good money for rare pictures such as these.</p><p> </p><p>*********</p><p> </p><p>As they entered the colorful Heights Kid Clothing and Toy Store, Bruce's mouth dropped open.  It was a virtual wonderland.  Shelves of toys, books, and clothes lined the walls and carved a path through the store.</p><p> </p><p>"Wow!"  Bruce excitedly tugged Alfred over to a pirate ship clubhouse full of pirate merchandise.  "This is sooooo cool!"</p><p> </p><p>Alfred stood back and watched as the boy climbed all over the ship playhouse.  The old man allowed himself to relax.  Bruce's fears had seemed to vanish in that moment, making way for childish bliss and innocence.</p><p> </p><p>**********</p><p> </p><p>Fred had joined Jerry outside the wide front window of the toy store.  Both men were vying for the perfect picture.  The boy was not disappointing them.  In fact, he was giving the photographers terrific shots.</p><p> </p><p>"We'll have to find out the story behind the band-aid," Jerry spoke between shots.</p><p> </p><p>"Lookit!" Fred exclaimed.  "The kid's putting on an eyepatch.  Jackie's going to love this, Jerry!  This boy's gonna be a gold mine for sure!"</p><p> </p><p>Jerry laughed his delight as he snapped another frame.  "Easy money, my man.  Easy money."</p><p> </p><p>**********</p><p> </p><p>After five minutes on the pirate ship, a Justice League display caught Bruce's eye.  "Hey Alfred," the boy enthused from his vantage point in the ship's crow's nest.  "Look at that!"</p><p> </p><p>The old man followed the boy's pointing finger.  "Ah yes.  Your `super'friends do indeed have clothing and toy merchandise.  Perhaps we shall find suitable sleep wear for you after all."</p><p> </p><p>The boy hopped down beside Alfred and grabbed the man's arm.  "C'mon!  I want to see if they have Batman and Robin!"</p><p> </p><p>After a whirlwind loop around the store, Alfred had helped Bruce pick up sixteen pairs of pajamas, seven shirts, five pairs of pants, and three caps.</p><p> </p><p>"You promised a toy, Alfred," Bruce reminded as they neared the register.  "I've been good, huh?"</p><p> </p><p>"Yes, my dear boy."  Alfred placed their items onto the counter.  He waved a hand toward the overloaded shelves behind him.  "Be quick," he encouraged.  "We have other stops to make before returning home."</p><p> </p><p>**********</p><p> </p><p>"Fred, over by those shelves!  He's picking out a toy."  Jerry shifted slightly to adjust his camera's position.</p><p> </p><p>However, Fred glanced around nervously.  People were beginning to notice the two men and point them out as paparazzi.  "We're drawing attention."</p><p> </p><p>"I don't care!  Keep snapping!"</p><p> </p><p>**********</p><p> </p><p>Gazing up at the various games and action figures, Bruce bit his lip nervously.  He had a lot of these already.  His <em>family</em> had lavished gifts on him, especially in the first two weeks following his return.  Also, friends and neighbors of Bruce Wayne had sent their own welcoming presents to the apparent <em>son</em> of their lost friend.</p><p> </p><p>Bruce began to move away toward another section when a bin of stuffed animals came across his path.  Stepping closer, he saw a gray bear near the bottom of the metal bin.  The bear's expression was so sad and lonely.  The poor creature was being smushed by a fierce-looking tiger and a goofy overweight panda…not to mention strangled by a yellow monkey's tail!  Bruce <em>had</em> to rescue that gray bear!</p><p> </p><p>Climbing onto the side of the metal bin, Bruce stretched far over to save the victim.  His fingers flayed out…he was almost there…he could touch the soft gray fur…almost got it…almost…</p><p> </p><p>"Whoops!"</p><p> </p><p>**********</p><p> </p><p>"Did you get that?  Fred, quick!  Forget about the crowd!  Get shots of this, man!  It's fabulous!"</p><p> </p><p>**********</p><p> </p><p>"Master Bruce, what on earth?"  Alfred assisted the boy who was struggling among the stuffed animals.</p><p> </p><p>Bruce's flushed face broke through the various jungle creatures.  "I had to save him, Alfred.  The other animals were squishing him," he explained with great sincerity.</p><p> </p><p>Placing the boy on the ground and straightening his clothes, Alfred questioned, "Squishing whom?"</p><p> </p><p>Holding up his prize, Bruce announced, "Alvin."</p><p> </p><p>"Alvin?"  Alfred took the bear into his hands and examined the stuffed animal.  "Master Bruce, are you quite sure this is the toy you wish to purchase?"</p><p> </p><p>Nodding, Bruce simply stated, "He needs me.  Besides, I've already got tons of cars and superheroes and stuff.  I don't have any teddy bears."</p><p> </p><p>"True enough," Alfred agreed, as he handed the bear back to Bruce.</p><p> </p><p>*********</p><p> </p><p>"That's it!  They're getting ready to leave!"  Jerry moved through the gathering throng of curious onlookers.  "Outta my way!" he ordered as he pushed himself near the front doors.</p><p> </p><p>"Who's in there?" Someone in the crowd finally asked loudly.</p><p> </p><p>"Gotta be somebody famous!"</p><p> </p><p>Then Fred heard someone else yell, "Hey, I think that's the Wayne kid…gotta be!  Isn't that Bruce Wayne's butler?"</p><p> </p><p>"Oh my goodness!  Look how darling!"</p><p> </p><p>"Isn't he sooo precious?"</p><p> </p><p>"So sad about his father….Such a tragedy."</p><p> </p><p>"Looks just like his dad!"</p><p> </p><p>The crowd kept getting bigger and louder.</p><p> </p><p>***********</p><p> </p><p>"Alfred?"</p><p> </p><p>"Yes, Master Bruce," the old man answered, his attention on the cash register and credit card machine in front of him.</p><p> </p><p>"Who are all those people?"</p><p> </p><p>Alfred's face drained as his eyes meet the glass double doors.  "Oh my word!"</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>TBC…  </p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chaos and Teddy Bears</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Waves of Change<br/><br/>Chapter 8<br/><br/>Chaos and Teddy Bears<br/><br/><br/><br/>Dick began clearing out Bruce's large desk and rows of office drawers.<br/>It was a chore he had been dreading…and yet, Dick was discovering<br/>some intriguing things about his adopted father along the way.<br/><br/>Unlike the fastidious order of the Batcave and the personal study at<br/>Wayne Manor, Bruce Wayne's downtown office was cluttered with no obvious<br/>rhyme or reason. Oh, it was clean on the surface, but just open a<br/>drawer and chaos ruled.<br/><br/>At first, Dick was puzzled as to why Bruce would allow such a state of<br/>affairs. The man had been raised by Alfred, the king of structure and<br/>order. Bruce himself bordered on obsessive perfectionism when it came<br/>to organization…among other things.<br/><br/>Dick hesitantly pulled open another drawer. He curiously lifted up a<br/>gold high-heeled shoe. Upon closer inspection, the young man tugged out<br/>a blue-striped tie that had been stuffed down into the toe of the<br/>delicate ladies' footwear. Dick was sure there was a story here, but<br/>figured he would rather not know. Other items in the same drawer<br/>included a remote control, a pair of sunglasses, a few paper clips, some<br/>file folders stuffed with documents, a Gotham Knights coffee mug, and a<br/>bottle of expired aspirin.<br/><br/>Suddenly, a thought hit Dick as to why Bruce might have worked in<br/>bedlam. It was a way to keep in character. When at the office, Bruce<br/>would have had to constantly remind himself to play the part of goofy,<br/>spoiled, air-headed playboy. What better way to appear as such than to<br/>be so disorganized? People would see how Bruce Wayne just tossed things<br/>here and there without a care. They would assume it was because he had<br/>no real job…just stepped in to sign some papers every now and then<br/>and say hello to Lucius.<br/><br/>However, Dick had to wonder…did Bruce enjoy letting things go at the<br/>office? Was it a release in some odd way? A humorous trick he played<br/>on unsuspecting people? Or was it another worry? Another stress?<br/>Another demanding part of the mission?<br/><br/>Obviously, Dick would never know. Little Bruce did not process his<br/>adult life very well. Every day the boy seemed to have a harder time<br/>remembering his past or distinguishing real from make-believe.<br/><br/>No, Dick would never know. He had lost his adopted father…he knew<br/>that. It pained him to think that Bruce was such a mystery to him. All<br/>those years together, and Dick still felt as though he had only ever<br/>seen a shadow of the man who raised him.<br/><br/>Why had Bruce sacrificed so much? Why did Bruce always feel the need to<br/>punish himself for events not of his own making? Why was Dick alive and<br/>Bruce…dead?<br/><br/>Dick felt the sting of tears in his eyes. Pinching the bridge of his<br/>nose, he willed the depressing thoughts away. He had to be strong. It<br/>was his duty.<br/><br/>************<br/><br/>Near tears, Bruce clung to his new teddy. Alfred and the store's<br/>manager had taken him into a back office to shelter him from the gawking<br/>eyes and flashing cameras. But how was he supposed to get home? Alfred<br/>had gone to talk some sense into the crowd. But from the loud protests,<br/>the little boy knew the curious onlookers had not left. They were<br/>trapped!<br/><br/>Maybe he could call the Watchtower…Superman said if he ever needed<br/>help…<br/><br/>No, that was if flesh-eating aliens from another galaxy were attacking<br/>Gotham, not camera welding people.<br/><br/>Dick was in the city! He was at the office! Surely he could help!<br/>Squeezing Alvin under his arm, Bruce picked up the phone from the desk<br/>and dialed the number Dick had drilled into the boy's head.<br/><br/>***********<br/><br/>As Dick closed and taped the last box, his cell phone began to vibrate<br/>in his pocket. Glancing at the number, Dick almost did not answer the<br/>call. Surely the stranger would leave a message. But a nagging<br/>sensation made him flip the phone open.<br/><br/>"Hello?"<br/><br/>"Dick?"<br/><br/>Snapping together at the pitiful voice, the young man asked in concern,<br/>"Bruce, what's wrong?"<br/><br/>"Alfred and I are trapped."<br/><br/>"Trapped?" Dick was already moving to the door, grabbing his coat and<br/>keys from a chair.<br/><br/>"Yeah, we went to the toy store and we got a bunch of stuff and I got a<br/>teddy bear," Bruce gulped in a big breath. "But then these people were<br/>all outside the door and they won't leave, so Alfred put me back here in<br/>this little room and he's out there trying to get the guys with the<br/>cameras to leave."<br/><br/>Understanding dawned on Dick and he broke into a jog toward the nearest<br/>elevator. "Stay on the phone with me, Bruce. It's going to be okay."<br/>Stepping in as the doors opened, Dick questioned, "Do you know what<br/>store?"<br/><br/>"No…it's really big though and has lots of toys and a big pirate<br/>ship in the middle…"<br/><br/>"Heights Kid," Dick stated. He had gotten lots of gifts for Lian there<br/>in recent years. "I'm on my way. I know right where you are."<br/><br/>"You better hurry…" Bruce whispered in a frightened voice. "Alfred<br/>sounds awfully mad…"<br/><br/>**********<br/><br/>"Freedom of the press gives you no right to harass a little boy!"<br/>Alfred's tongue lashing had sent a few spectators away. However, many<br/>had simply crossed the street, still hoping to catch a glimpse of the<br/>little boy all the magazines had been raving about in the past few<br/>issues. The two paparazzi photographers refused to stand down.<br/><br/>"I have the right to stand on this street with my camera, like any other<br/>citizen. If you don't like that, go back to England!" Jerry's feet<br/>were planted firmly on the sidewalk.<br/><br/>"I have been a U. S. Citizen longer than you have, young man," Alfred<br/>stated fiercely. "And the one thing that drew me to this country was<br/>the overall kindness and decency of its people. However, as in the case<br/>of any brood, there are a few bad eggs."<br/><br/>"Look man, I've got a family to feed. These photos send my little girl<br/>to one of the best schools in Gotham. Kids are resilient. A few<br/>sessions of therapy and he'll be fine," Fred quipped.<br/><br/>"Of all the nerve!" Alfred huffed and retreated inside the store.<br/><br/>***********<br/><br/>"So you got a new teddy?" Dick asked, trying to draw the boy's<br/>attention away from the situation. Pulling out of the parking garage,<br/>he quickly switched to his hands-free phone. In his head, he could hear<br/>Bruce's adult baritone chide, "Safety first, chum."<br/><br/>"Uh-huh," the little boy's voice affirmed, bringing Dick back to the<br/>present.<br/><br/>"What's his name?" The young man zagged his Lamborghini around a slow<br/>moving SUV.<br/><br/>"Alvin."<br/><br/>"Alvin? Why Alvin?"<br/><br/>Bruce sighed as if Dick was dimwitted for asking. "Because he's got to<br/>have a secret identity and he likes chipmunks and he looks a lot like<br/>Tim."<br/><br/>"Oh." Dick was going to have to see this teddy. And next time he saw<br/>Tim, the amused man was going to comment how much his younger brother<br/>resembled a rodent or bear. Dick was not entirely sure which one Bruce<br/>meant, but that didn't matter in the least. It was darned funny!<br/>"Alvin's a great name for him then!"<br/><br/>"Yep," Bruce whispered, "You know what though?"<br/><br/>"What's that?"<br/><br/>"Alvin doesn't like being in this little room and he doesn't like all<br/>those people…he's kinda scared…"<br/><br/>Pushing the accelerator, Dick answered, "I know, Bruce. But tell Alvin<br/>I'm almost there."<br/><br/>He continued to draw Bruce out and keep the boy talking. As Dick turned<br/>the corner near the toy store, the enormity of the situation came into<br/>view. A large mob of people stood in pockets down the sidewalk and<br/>across the street from the store. Many had their cell phones pointed<br/>toward the shop, hoping to capture anything interesting.<br/><br/>Of course the red Lamborghini that squealed to a stop in the street was<br/>quite a spectacle…so was the young man that hopped out of the<br/>vehicle. Gasps and exclamations echoed from the throng of people.<br/><br/>"That's the Grayson boy!"<br/><br/>"My! He is gorgeous!"<br/><br/>"Isn't that Bruce Wayne's ward?"<br/><br/>"Wasn't he adopted?"<br/><br/>"Move! I can't see!"<br/><br/>Dick ignored the swarm of people and made his way to the door. "I'm<br/>right outside, Bruce. I'll be right there." It was at this moment he<br/>came face to face with the two idiots who apparently caused the whole<br/>ruckus. The photographers snapped continuous pictures of the young man<br/>as he approached them.<br/><br/>Dick shoved his way through the cameras and reached the door. Whirling<br/>on the paparazzi, he warned, "Harassing me is one thing…but if you<br/>are still here when I walk out of this door with that little boy, you<br/>will be sorry." With that, he disappeared into the toy store.<br/><br/>**********<br/><br/>Alfred was at a loss. In recent years, he had become quite accustomed<br/>to the paparazzi following the adult Bruce Wayne around from time to<br/>time. For the most part, they stayed back a respectable distance and<br/>the adult Bruce did not seem to mind…for it was all part of his<br/>public `image.' On the other hand, the little boy tucked away in the<br/>back office wanted nothing to do with a public image. If nothing else,<br/>this episode had only reinforced Bruce's desire to hide away from the<br/>rest of the world.<br/><br/>"Alfred!"<br/><br/>Relief flooded into the old man's face as he saw the young man<br/>approaching him. "Master Dick, how did you…?"<br/><br/>"Bruce called me. Where is he…"<br/><br/>"Dick!" Bruce ran out of his hiding spot and flung himself into the<br/>young man's arms.<br/><br/>As Dick held the boy, he could see the people snapping photos outside of<br/>the window. Anger began to burn inside of him. How dare these people?<br/>What right did they have? Couldn't they see the boy was frightened?<br/><br/>Bruce was clinging to Dick for dear life. He didn't understand why all<br/>these people wouldn't go away. "I wanna go home, Dick," the boy cried<br/>into the man's shoulder. "Can I go home now?"<br/><br/>Without another word, Dick marched toward the door, carrying his bundle.<br/>Alfred followed his boys. Stepping out onto the sidewalk, they strode<br/>purposefully toward the waiting Lamborghini. The two photographers'<br/>cameras were mere inches from Bruce's face. The boy kept his eyes shut<br/>and tried his best to melt into his protector. However, with each<br/>flash, pictures of guns, pearls, blood, dark alleys and dead bodies<br/>flickered in his mind.<br/><br/>When Dick reached his car, he quickly placed Bruce inside saying, "Get<br/>over on the passenger seat. It's okay, we're going home." Turning back<br/>around, Dick told Alfred, "I've got him. You take your time and don't<br/>worry."<br/><br/>At that moment, one of the photographers ducked down under Dick's arm<br/>and snapped a shot of the boy sitting in the sports car. Bruce<br/>noticeably flinched at the flash of light. Dick reacted before<br/>thinking. He reached down, grabbed the man by the shirt and drew back<br/>his fist.<br/><br/>"No, sir! You must not…"<br/><br/>But Alfred's warning was too late. Dick's punch landed square in the<br/>man's face. It felt so good that Dick hit the man two more times before<br/>letting him go.<br/><br/>Jerry fell back on his rear, nose bleeding. "That's assault!"<br/><br/>Getting into the Lamborghini, Dick muttered, "That's a lesson to leave<br/>my family alone." With that, he sped away with a wide eyed Bruce.<br/><br/>**********<br/><br/>Barbara had made her way back to the Manor only to discover that it was<br/>empty. Rolling down the long hallway toward the study, she sighed. It<br/>was hard to imagine Bruce growing up here in the silent halls. Of<br/>course, Alfred had been around, but with no other children or<br/>grown-ups…Barbara began to realize just how lonely it must have been<br/>for him. No wonder the man had few social skills. Sure, Bruce had been<br/>the greatest detective in the world, and he was a heck of a street<br/>fighter…but it was apparent to those closest to him that Bruce Wayne<br/>struggled with low self-esteem.<br/><br/>Thinking back to his behavior after Dick's death, Barbara was able to<br/>admit, for the first time; Bruce had been unable to handle it any other<br/>way. She knew she had to forgive him. Her anger was affecting her<br/>attitude toward the little boy now living in this house. But some<br/>things were easier said than done.<br/><br/>Hearing the front door open, Barbara turned her chair around and made<br/>her way back to the foyer.<br/><br/>**********<br/><br/>Bruce huddled on the passenger seat sniffling quietly. He was trying<br/>his best to be brave. A part of him was screaming to suck it up. But<br/>horrifying images kept playing over and over in his head. It was a bad<br/>nightmare, only, he thought, perhaps it might be real.<br/><br/>Dick was seething. He gripped the steering wheel with white-knuckled<br/>force. Unable to trust himself to utter anything but curses, he stared<br/>straight ahead at the road, his lips shut in a tight, hard line. It was<br/>not supposed to be this way. Dick had failed to protect Bruce from the<br/>real world.<br/><br/>A ragged sigh drew Dick's attention to the weeping boy. "Bruce, you're<br/>okay. You're safe now."<br/><br/>Shaking his head, Bruce breathed, "No, I'm not…I've never been<br/>safe."<br/><br/>For a brief moment, Dick turned questioning eyes to the boy. Gazing<br/>back at the road, he asked, "What's that mean? Bruce, you know I'm not<br/>going to let those men hurt you. You've got to believe that!"<br/><br/>"I don't feel safe," Bruce admitted. Hugging Alvin to him, the boy<br/>mumbled, "I don't like all those people looking at me that way."<br/><br/>"You can't stay locked up in the manor for the rest of your life," Dick<br/>reasoned. "You've never been afraid of public places before…What's<br/>wrong? Why are you so scared now?"<br/><br/>"I…" Bruce fidgeted with the teddy bear's button nose. "I don't<br/>like people seeing me…because…they might see them."<br/><br/>"Them?" Dick asked. "Who's them?"<br/><br/>A flash of memory…a gun, a scream, gunshots, falling pearls, and<br/>blood…pools of warm red blood that spread out to cover his knees on<br/>the cold hard pavement…Blood that splattered across his face to<br/>slide down his cheeks, mixing with his tears…blood that covered his<br/>hands as he tried to shake his mom and dad back to life…<br/><br/>"Bruce?" Dick had already pulled into the main gate and parked the car<br/>in the circular driveway. "Bruce, tell me what you're thinking." The<br/>young man placed a gentle hand on the boy's shoulder.<br/><br/>With unexpected panic, Bruce recoiled from the touch. "Stop looking at<br/>me! I don't want you to look at me! You'll see them! You'll see me!<br/>Just stop looking!"<br/><br/>"Hey, big guy," Dick spoke calmly. "The only person I see is Bruce<br/>Wayne, a wonderful and smart boy who has nothing to be ashamed<br/>about…and I care about him and I want to help him."<br/><br/>"You…you don't see them?" Bruce questioned softly.<br/><br/>"No." Giving the boy a reassuring nod and an encouraging grin, Dick<br/>asked, "Will you tell me about them?"<br/><br/>At first, Bruce hesitated. However, the man sitting beside him was<br/>someone Bruce trusted without question. "The people with cameras saw<br/>them. They wouldn't go away. They kept taking pictures. I was so<br/>scared and…and I didn't want anyone to see them…or me."<br/><br/>The detective in Dick began to reason that this panic attack was not<br/>related to that afternoon's events. "Bruce, are you remembering your<br/>parents?" The young man had only heard Alfred and Leslie's second-hand<br/>accounts of the tragic night Thomas and Martha Wayne were murdered. As<br/>far as Dick knew, Bruce had never spoken to anyone about what he saw or<br/>exactly what had happened. "It might help to talk about it, you<br/>know…before it's too late for anyone to ever know what happened that<br/>night."<br/><br/>Staring out the window, Bruce studied the well-manicured grounds<br/>surrounding Wayne Manor. He searched his memory and slowly began to<br/>speak. "We went to a movie…Zorro. It was a really good movie. I<br/>remember playing like I was sword fighting while we were going back to<br/>our car. Dad always parked at the hospital parking garage and we would<br/>walk through the alley. He said it was quicker that way. It wasn't<br/>scary really, not even that dark. But that night, a man just came out<br/>of nowhere. He was walking kinda funny, like he couldn't stand up. We<br/>were gonna walk past him…but he just had a gun…all of a sudden.<br/>It was so quick. Dad told him to stay calm and that he could have his<br/>wallet. But that man pointed the gun at Mom and me. He tried to grab<br/>her pearls…"<br/><br/>Bruce paused and closed his eyes. He felt Dick's hand squeeze his<br/>shoulder.<br/><br/>"Dad jumped in front of us…and…and there was a bright light and<br/>this loud crack. It scared me and I closed my eyes. When I opened<br/>them, Dad was on the ground and Mom was screaming. That man didn't<br/>care. He shoved me out of the way, trying to get Mom's pearls. But she<br/>yelled at him to leave me alone and tried to hit him…" Bruce's<br/>voice broke and tears began to slide down his cheeks. "Her necklace<br/>broke and all the pearls fell down and there was another shot…and<br/>she fell down too."<br/><br/>The boy turned watery eyes to Dick. "I thought he was gonna shoot me,<br/>so I fell on my knees between Mom and Dad and waited. But he just<br/>stumbled off. He didn't even take Dad's wallet or any of Mom's pearls.<br/>He just left me there."<br/><br/>After a moment, Dick gently prodded, "What happened after that, Bruce?"<br/><br/>"I waited a long time. I couldn't leave them there alone. I didn't<br/>know where to go and I was so dirty…everywhere I looked there was<br/>blood and pearls and I didn't know what to do." Shrugging, Bruce<br/>continued, "Then the police came and a lot of other people were standing<br/>around and then those people with the cameras showed up. They just kept<br/>taking picture after picture and I just wanted to hide away. I didn't<br/>want anyone to see me. I didn't want anyone to see Mom and Dad like<br/>that. But Dr. Leslie was there and she took me away."<br/><br/>"She brought you home?"<br/><br/>"No," Bruce said, shaking his head slowly. "We had to go to the police<br/>station. Mr. Gordon was there. He put Dad's coat on me, gave me some<br/>of Mom's pearls that had stayed on her necklace, and a policeman's cap.<br/>Alfred came later and picked me up."<br/><br/>"I'm sorry, Bruce. That should never have happened," Dick empathized.<br/><br/>Sighing, the boy admitted, "I know I got scared at the toy store, but<br/>those cameras…I just kept seeing that night and I didn't like it.<br/>I'll try to do better, I promise I will…"<br/><br/>"Bruce, you are doing fine. It's okay to be scared. It's okay to cry,"<br/>Dick reassured. "and it's also okay to tell me exactly what's wrong and<br/>why. That's the only way I can help you."<br/><br/>Overwhelmed with emotion and struggling with the day's events, the boy<br/>swiped at fresh tears. He didn't resist the strong arms that lifted him<br/>out of the vehicle and carried him inside the manor. In fact, he<br/>wrapped his arms around the man's neck and buried his face in Dick's<br/>shoulder, letting it all out.<br/><br/>Holding the crying boy in his arms, Dick knelt down in the foyer. "Hey<br/>Bruce, it's okay. We're home now. We're home." But Bruce continued to<br/>cry and hold tightly to the young man.<br/><br/>"What happened?" Entering the room, Barbara stopped her chair beside<br/>the pair.<br/><br/>"The paparazzi followed Bruce and Alfred to the toy store," Dick<br/>explained, looking at Barbara with a mixture of heartache and anger.<br/><br/>Watching the terrified child cry, something in Barbara began to melt.<br/>This was a little boy, with real fears, hurts, and needs. It was not<br/>the adult Bruce. It was not the man she had known for years. He was a<br/>little child that needed love and guidance. If someone did not step up<br/>to the plate…if she did not allow herself to accept this boy and be<br/>there to help teach and comfort him, then she was condemning Bruce to a<br/>second life of loneliness and self-doubt.<br/><br/>"Come here, sweetie," Barbara held her arms out to the boy.<br/><br/>Dick watched as the boy immediately left his arms and clung to Barbara.<br/>For a moment, he puzzled at this new turn of events. He stared in<br/>amazement as Barbara ran her hand through Bruce's hair and spoke<br/>soothing words to the boy.<br/><br/>The spell was broken, as the doorbell rang. Dick stepped over and<br/>opened the door. Two uniformed police officers stood on the doorstep.<br/><br/>"Richard Grayson?"<br/><br/>"Yes," Dick answered knowing all too well what the next words would be.<br/><br/>"We have a warrant for you arrest."<br/><br/>"For what?" Barbara demanded as she approached the door, Bruce still in<br/>her lap.<br/><br/>Turning sheepishly toward her, Dick admitted, "I hit one of the<br/>photographers."<br/><br/>"Three times," Bruce muttered, wiping tears from his cheeks. "Alfred<br/>told him not to."<br/><br/>Barbara nodded her head and sighed. "Well, at least it's only a<br/>misdemeanor. You'll get out on bail."<br/><br/>"Send Alfred to pick me up," Dick requested, as the officers began to<br/>lead him away. "Oh! And Wally, Linda and Bart are coming over tonight<br/>to watch the game."<br/><br/>Barbara and Bruce exchanged looks. As the police car drove off, Barbara<br/>patted the boy's back. "So I see you've got a new teddy bear. Does he<br/>have a name?"<br/><br/>"Alvin."<br/><br/>Closing the door, Barbara questioned, "Alvin? Why Alvin?"<br/><br/>TBC…</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Backup</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Waves of Change</p><p>Chapter 9</p><p>Backup</p><p> </p><p>Azrael landed softly on the roof of St. Michael's Cathedral.  Silently, he watched as a few parishioners solemnly left evening mass.  A part of him sensed a kinship with the Catholic Church's rituals.  However, the Order of St. Dumas was a far cry from Christian theology.</p><p> </p><p>In fact, the love and hope of Christ and His sacrifice were non-existent in the sacraments of St. Dumas.  Jean Paul had been instructed his whole life to live in fear of St. Dumas' wrath.  God and His love had nothing to do with the life of a follower of The Order…especially with that of a lowly avenging angel.</p><p> </p><p>Dr. Leslie and Alfred often spoke to Jean Paul about God and His Son…and the love and sacrifice that had been made for all.  Yet, years of conditioning and the implanted "system" kept the young hero from truly comprehending a gentle, forgiving Creator.</p><p> </p><p>A rapid movement caught his eye.  Azrael became acutely aware of another presence on the cathedral's roof.</p><p> </p><p>"You were saying your prayers?  Good.  Now I will send you to your maker."</p><p> </p><p>Azrael narrowed his eyes as he recognized the menacing deep voice.  "Bane," he ground out.</p><p> </p><p>"I have often wondered why the Bat has allowed you to remain a part of his family."  Bane stepped out of the shadow cast by the towering steeple.  "You are the weak link in the chain."</p><p> </p><p>"I've beaten <em>you</em> before," Azrael reminded the overgrown brute.  "It'll be a pleasure to do so again."</p><p> </p><p>"We shall see in due time."  Bane began to circle the young hero.  "First, I want to know the truth.  Is <em>he</em> dead?  Is Gotham without her protector?"</p><p> </p><p>Cautiously watching the villain, Azrael shook his head.  "You of all people should know the answer to that.  Nothing will ever keep Batman from protecting his city."</p><p> </p><p>"If he is alive," Bane questioned, "why do the news stories lie and why do his subordinates carry out his mission?  Where is he?"</p><p> </p><p>"If he wanted you to know, he would've called," Azrael quipped.</p><p> </p><p>"You have added sarcasm to your skills," Bane noted.  "Perhaps you are jealous of Nightwing?"</p><p> </p><p>"No, just learned a thing or two from him…including a sense of humor."  Az smiled evilly at his enemy.  "You ought to try it sometime.  Might improve your social life."</p><p> </p><p>With little warning, Bane pounced, tackling the Avenging Angel to the ground.  "You are not worth my time, pretender!  Prepare to die!"</p><p> </p><p>In a split second, Jean Paul shifted completely into spectator-mode as Azrael took control.  Mutely, he threw Bane off of him, regained his feet, ducked Bane's right fist and landed his own punch under the big man's right ribs.</p><p> </p><p>Bane grunted, but that was the only result of Azrael's punch.  Then the villain brought both hands up, clasped them into a fist, and swung down with terrific force.</p><p> </p><p>Azrael stumbled back as the blow crashed on top of his head.  Bane did not wait for his opponent to recover.  Rushing the angel, the steroid pumped man cursed and growled his frustration.</p><p> </p><p>*********</p><p> </p><p>"Crud monkeys!"  Bruce watched as the virtual bowling ball rolled into the gutter.  "I can't even hit one!"</p><p> </p><p>"That's okay, Bruce," Tim encouraged.  "It takes time to learn how to play video games.  But I'm betting within weeks you are going to be better than any of us.  Usually how it works…little kids figure out technology way faster than adults."</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, but most little kids don't live with Oracle," Bruce muttered.  "Do you know she put p'rental…what-cha-ma-call-it on my computer?  That's not fair."</p><p> </p><p>Chuckling, Tim heard the doorbell.  "I think that's Bart.  I'll go get him."  He left the room and went down the hall to the balcony.  From the top of the stairs, Tim called down to his friend, who was stepping through the front door.  "Bart, come on up."  The next instant Tim was face to face with the young speedster.  "Bruce and I have been playing on the Wii."</p><p> </p><p>"Cool!"  Bart then questioned, "Bruce?"</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, you know…"  Tim stuck up a pointer finger on both sides of his head.</p><p> </p><p>Understanding dawned in the younger teen's eyes.  "Oh yeah!  Batman!  I forgot his real name…sowhat'shelike?Ishestillscary?Doeshewearthecostume?"</p><p> </p><p>"Slow down, Bart!"  Shaking his head, Tim laughed.  "He's just a kid.  Come on, I'll introduce you."</p><p> </p><p>Wally, Linda, Dick and Barbara watched the boys walk out of sight from the first floor.  Smiling warmly at his best friend, Dick threw his arm around Wally's shoulders.  "It's good to see you."</p><p> </p><p>Without preamble, Wally yanked Dick into a hug.  Clapping his friend's back, he said, "Same here, man."  Both men stepped away and examined the floor pattern.  Wally finally found his voice and tried to break the tension…even though the sentiment was serious.  "You can only die on me once, Dick.  You know that, right?  Just once…that's all you're allowed."</p><p> </p><p>Cracking a smile, Dick quipped, "I'll do my best…Now, it's ten minutes `til kickoff.  How about we find Alfred and the food?"</p><p> </p><p>************</p><p> </p><p>Bane and Azrael continued to battle on the roof of the cathedral.  They appeared to be evenly matched, both giving and taking blows that would have killed most men.  Bane continued to hurl insults.  In contrast, Azrael fought silently against his attacker.</p><p> </p><p>"You are pathetic!  I will be doing the Batman a favor by destroying you!"  Lowering his head, Bane charged.</p><p> </p><p>Azrael merely sidestepped and allowed the villain's momentum to hurl him into the brick edge of the roof.  He strode purposely toward the crouched man. </p><p> </p><p>Unexpectedly, Azrael's attention shifted to the sidewalk below, as a panicked yell echoed up to the roof of the church.  His heart skipped a beat.  A young mother was calling out for her child.  The woman obviously did not know her little girl's whereabouts…however, Azrael had a bird's eye view.  He knew exactly where the toddler had gone.  She had wandered out into the street and was directly in the path of oncoming traffic.</p><p> </p><p>Azrael was an angel of vengeance…that was the "System" the Order had implanted in him during his childhood.  However, Jean Paul called out to remind Azrael that he was an angel who chose to rescue.  Without another thought for Bane, the hero dived off the cathedral.  He shot a line across the street to the top of a metal frame on a construction site, looping it around a crossbeam near the top of the structure.  As he descended to the street aiming for the little girl, Azrael spied an eighteen wheeler bearing down on that very spot.  He prayed he would reach the girl in time.  It would be so close.  The line brought him swooping closer, but the truck was not slowing down.</p><p> </p><p>A frantic scream and cry told Azrael that the child's mother was now very aware of the impending danger.  He was almost there…almost…</p><p> </p><p>**********</p><p> </p><p>"Touchdown!"  Dick stood with arms stretched above his head.</p><p> </p><p>Wally fell back onto the couch and covered his eyes.  "NO!  What's happening?"</p><p> </p><p>"The Gotham Wildcats are stompin' all over the Keystone Cheetahs, that's what's happening," Dick exclaimed, smirking at his friend.</p><p> </p><p>Linda and Barbara both rolled their eyes.  "I think I need another diet soda," Barbara muttered.</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, I think I'll join you," Linda said, as they left the room.</p><p> </p><p>The men found themselves alone for the first time that evening.  Wally knew he had to ask now if he wanted an honest answer.  "So Dick, how are you holding up?"</p><p> </p><p>Sighing, Dick walked a few feet away from his friend.  "Good.  Not great.  But good."</p><p> </p><p>"Come on, man.  You didn't say you needed your best friend here so you could feed him a bunch of BS.  I know you too well, Dick.  You were arrested today for punching a guy with a camera aimed at your little kid!"</p><p> </p><p>"As much as I'd like to think that's my little kid, it's not, Wally!  He's my father!"</p><p> </p><p>"That kid is Bruce…but he's <em>not</em> your father," Wally pointed out.  "Let's get real, man.  Tell me…what's eating at you?"</p><p> </p><p>Unable to hold back any longer, Dick questioned, "<em>Why</em>, Wally?  Why did he do it?"  His jaw tensed and he clenched his fists at his sides.  "I might as well have killed him myself!  Of all the stupid things Bruce has ever done!  Why in the world did he go in that pit?"</p><p> </p><p>"To save his son…to save my friend…to save a hero…"  Wally paused only for a moment before adding, "But also to save his sanity."  Shaking his head, the speedster continued, "You didn't see him, Dick.  Bruce was truly gone.  There was no bringing him back.  As confusing and unfortunate as it may seem, this is the best outcome…at least the best one I can imagine."</p><p> </p><p>"So why do I feel so guilty?" Dick asked softly.  "If this was right…why do I look at that little boy and feel so terrible?"</p><p> </p><p>"It's part of grief.  Even family members who lose someone at the ripe old age of 110 feel guilty, like they should've done more.  Your father <em>is</em> <em>dead</em>.  You are going to have to allow yourself to grieve."  Leaning his elbows on his knees, Wally clasped his hands together and studied them.  "It's not easy, Dick.  Just ask me or Roy.  But if you keep yourself surrounded by friends and family…if you don't push away…you'll get through this.  So will Bruce."</p><p> </p><p>"Thanks, Wally.  For everything…" Dick wanted to say more, but found all other words inadequate.</p><p> </p><p>***********</p><p> </p><p>He was so inadequate!  His effort was not going to be enough!  Azrael grasped the toddler, as the truck rumbled closer.  It was just a few feet away.  Desperately, Az pushed the child toward the safety of the sidewalk.  At the same instant, pain struck his left side and leg, as the truck rammed into him, barely missing the screaming girl.</p><p> </p><p>The force of the impact flung Azrael's body through the air.</p><p> </p><p>**********</p><p> </p><p>"Faster!" Bruce shouted, enjoying the tingling feeling in his tummy.</p><p> </p><p>Wally grunted, "I'm going 80…that's 10 over the speed limit.  Anymore and Dick'll give me a ticket."</p><p> </p><p>Riding piggyback, Bruce leaned closer and said, "Don't worry, I'm rich!  I'll pay for it!  Faster!"</p><p> </p><p>Speeding up just a tad, Wally looped the expansive grounds 3 more times before stopping at the manor's front doors.</p><p> </p><p>"I clocked you at 97, Wally," Dick complained softly.</p><p> </p><p>Bruce slid down the speedster's back.  "97?  Wow that's awesome!"  Running back in the house, the boy called out, "Hey Bart!  I was going 97 miles per hour!"</p><p> </p><p>From deep in the house, Bart's voice bragged, "Oh yeah?  Well, I can go lots faster than that!"</p><p> </p><p>Wally sheepishly smiled at his frowning friend.  "He talked me into going over your speed limit…just couldn't help giving in."</p><p> </p><p>Breaking into a grin, Dick nodded his head.  "He's definitely good at getting what he wants.  That apparently hasn't changed."</p><p> </p><p>Wally placed his hand on Dick's shoulder.  "Like I said, one day at a time and I'll be there whenever you need me."</p><p> </p><p>Dick ducked his head.  "I'm glad you came over to watch the game tonight.  I really needed a friend."</p><p> </p><p>**********</p><p> </p><p>He really needed backup.  "Ah!"  Jean Paul cried out in pain, as he felt his left ribs, hip, and leg crushed by the blunt force of the big truck.  Knowing it was literally his life-line, Azrael clung to the d-cel cable.  His body flew up onto the hood and then slammed into the windshield.  He heard the glass break on impact.  Again, the momentum forced his body up.  This time the angel was able to retract the line and he felt his body soar to the metal beams of the construction site.</p><p> </p><p>As he reached the end of his grapple, still attached to the crossbeam, Azrael struggled onto the structure.  Leaning back against the metal post, the injured hero began to assess the damage.</p><p> </p><p>Immediately, he coughed up blood.  His side was on fire and it was very difficult to breathe.  His left leg was useless.  One look told Azrael it was definitely broken.  Suddenly, his mask became very restricting and hot.  He feebly yanked it off.  Jean Paul wiped the sweat from his brow with a trembling hand.  Yes, he really did need backup.  There was no doubt of that.</p><p> </p><p>***********</p><p> </p><p>Dick, Barbara, and Alfred found themselves on the portico of the main entrance of Wayne Manor.  They had waved everyone off and were now being entertained by Bruce's antics.  The boy climbed up the edge of the fountain gracing the circular drive.  He balanced himself and cautiously stepped around on the concrete ledge.</p><p> </p><p>"Take care you do not fall in, Master Bruce," Alfred warned.  "It is a bit chilly tonight."  Before he could say anything else, the phone began to ring in the manor.</p><p> </p><p>Dick and Barbara watched Alfred hurry back inside.</p><p> </p><p>"This was a nice evening," Barbara commented, looking up at the starry sky.  Puffs of smoke floated away with her words.</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, it sure was," Dick said, as he grasped her hand.  "Gonna be cold tonight.  Good cuddle weather."</p><p> </p><p>Barbara winked at her love.  "I wouldn't mind you warming me up."</p><p> </p><p>"I've got an electric blanket you can have," Bruce offered from his perch on top of a sculpted fish in the middle of the fountain.</p><p> </p><p>"Bruce, how did you…?" Dick questioned curiously as he approached the child.  "You're not even wet!"</p><p> </p><p>"I jumped," Bruce answered.</p><p> </p><p>"Well, jump back.  Alfred's gonna skin us both," the young man said, shaking his head with exaggeration.</p><p> </p><p>Bruce was about to leap…</p><p> </p><p>"Master Dick!"</p><p> </p><p>"Whoa!"  SPLASH!</p><p> </p><p>"Oh for Heaven's sake!" Alfred exclaimed rushing over to help Dick pull Bruce out of the icy water.</p><p> </p><p>"That's cold!" Bruce chattered through clenched teeth.</p><p> </p><p>"No doubt," Alfred muttered.</p><p> </p><p>Dick picked Bruce up and started walking inside.  Alfred followed on his footsteps with Barbara rolling in behind them.</p><p> </p><p>"Master Dick, allow me to take care of Master Bruce."  When the young man glanced curiously at him, Alfred explained, "It was the distress call, Sir.  Azrael is out there alone tonight."</p><p> </p><p>Quickly passing Bruce to the older man, Dick ruffled the boy's wet hair.  "See you in the morning, Squirt."  Bending down to give Barbara a peck on the cheek, he added, "Meet you down in the `Cave."</p><p> </p><p>************</p><p> </p><p>Sighing with relief, Azrael saw the little girl's mother scoop her child into her arms.  Except for a few scrapes, the toddler appeared to be okay.  He coughed again, and the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth.  He had sent the distress signal.  Someone would come…</p><p> </p><p>"Was it worth the effort?"</p><p> </p><p>Azrael slowly turned his head.  Bane was perched a few beams over.</p><p> </p><p>"Your life sacrificed for that of a mere child?"</p><p> </p><p><em>So this is how it ends</em>, Azrael thought.  He knew help would not be arriving that fast.  He had hardly been able to raise his hand to take off his mask a few minutes ago…how could he defend himself against Bane?</p><p> </p><p>"You are a fool," Bane spat.  "All of this could have been yours years ago!  And you squandered it!  You could not bring yourself to destroy the Bat completely!"</p><p> </p><p>"…no…" Jean Paul managed to push the word out.  "…that's not the right way…we have to help…*cough*…help each other…dictators breed…*cough*…hate…only hate…"</p><p> </p><p>By now, Bane was balanced on the beam next to the injured hero.  Indifferent to the other man's whimpers, the villain grabbed the strong fabric around Jean Paul's neck and lifted him up.  "I will never be that weak."</p><p> </p><p>"…then I feel sorry for you…" Jean Paul whispered out.</p><p> </p><p>With a growl, Bane simply flung his victim down to the ground of the unfinished building.</p><p> </p><p>There was nothing Jean Paul could do but allow his body to freefall.  A stabbing pain shot through his right shoulder and abdomen, as his body jerked to a stop.  After several minutes of adjusting to the new damage, Jean Paul realized he was suspended in the air.  Through blurry vision, he could see the metal spikes impaling his body.</p><p> </p><p>It had taken 13 armor piercing bullets, a two-story fall, and a mile of stumbling through back alleys to kill his father…who lingered for more than three hours after sustaining those wounds.  Jean Paul wondered how long it would be for death to find him.  He had nothing to do but wait.</p><p> </p><p>TBC…</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. David and Goliath</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Waves of Change</p><p>Chapter 10</p><p>David and Goliath</p><p> </p><p>Nightwing landed soundlessly on the rooftop of St. Michael's Cathedral.  Peering over at the street below, he watched as police and rescue workers combed the accident scene.  An eighteen wheeler had slid sideways, leaving dark skid marks on the road.  Amazingly enough, only two other cars were involved.  Thankfully, no one seemed to be seriously injured.</p><p> </p><p>Off to the side, Nightwing could see a woman holding a young child in her arms.  A small crowd of police officers and a paramedic were surrounding her.  "Babs, what're you hearing?" he whispered into his comm link.</p><p> </p><p>"Police band says whoever the truck driver hit left the scene…but he saved the little girl.  Witnesses say the truck barely missed her, but the apparent rescuer took a direct hit.  He was wearing a red and gold costume and mask."  Her voice laced with emotion, she added, "I can't get him to answer my calls, Dick."</p><p> </p><p>"I'm going to find him," Nightwing answered determinedly.  "He couldn't have gone far.  Didn't Bruce place a homing device in all our suits?"</p><p> </p><p>"He had one on Az?"</p><p> </p><p>"He had one on me.  Why not, Jean Paul?"</p><p> </p><p>"Let me work my magic…"  It only took forty-three seconds before Barbara announced, "It's blinking right across the street."</p><p> </p><p>Silently, Nightwing flew across to the construction site.  Studying the metal frame, his eye caught a glimpse of red cloth.  He climbed over to the crossbeam.  A grapple line was still attached next to the discarded mask of Azrael.  Pools of blood stained the metal beams.</p><p> </p><p>"He <em>was</em> here," Nightwing stated grimly.  "And he wasn't in good shape from the looks of it.  If Azrael passed out or was too weak to hold on, he could have fallen."  As the thought crossed his mind, Nightwing squinted through the darkness to the ground below.</p><p> </p><p>"…help me..."  The cry was barely audible on the wind.</p><p> </p><p>Quickly descending the metal labyrinth, Nightwing called out, "Found him!"  He landed just feet away and moved swiftly to Jean Paul's side.</p><p> </p><p>"…please…help me…"</p><p> </p><p>"It's okay, Jean Paul.  I'm here."</p><p> </p><p>"…nightwing?..."</p><p> </p><p>"Right here, buddy.  Stay with me."  Nightwing took in the sight of the impaled man, noting his various injuries.  "Did you fall?"</p><p> </p><p>"…bane…"</p><p> </p><p>Upon hearing that name, Nightwing cautiously viewed his surroundings.  "Bane was here?"  Drawing out a small hand-held blow torch from his gauntlet, he questioned, "Before or after you saved the day?"</p><p> </p><p>"…both…"  Then Jean Paul began to cough, more blood seeped through his nose and mouth.  "…not my night…" he finally choked out.</p><p> </p><p>Cutting through the top of the steel spikes, Nightwing chuckled for Jean Paul's sake.  "No, it's not.  But we're going to get you out of this­­—don't give up on me."  Speaking into his comm link, he asked, "Babs, can you send Alfred with the ambulance?  That's our best bet in getting him out of here."</p><p> </p><p>"I'm on it!"</p><p> </p><p>Nightwing worked on, speaking encouraging words to the wounded man.</p><p> </p><p>Floating between consciousness and oblivion, Jean Paul was only slightly aware of what was happening.  It seemed hours had passed before he heard other voices around him.</p><p> </p><p>"If you are able to hold him, sir, I should be able to cut through the spikes underneath.  Try not to move him."  He recognized the British accent.</p><p> </p><p>"Batgirl, hold his legs."  That was Nightwing, still there with him.</p><p> </p><p>"Broken…not good."  The short, choppy words belonged to Batgirl.</p><p> </p><p>Jean Paul moaned at the hot pressure placed on his back, side, and left leg.  However, within a short time, he realized his body was free.  He was being lowered down to rest on something cold.</p><p> </p><p>"Jean Paul, you must lay still, lad.  The spikes are still there.  We cannot remove them just now."</p><p> </p><p>"…alfred…"</p><p> </p><p>Alfred placed his hand on the young man's forehead.  "I am right here.  We are on our way home.  Dr. Leslie is waiting for us."</p><p> </p><p>"…it was bane…he thinks…batman's dead…"</p><p> </p><p>"You must not worry about that, now.  Master Dick will take care of that brute."</p><p> </p><p>Unable to keep his eyes open, Jean Paul allowed the darkness to pull him into its comforting embrace.</p><p> </p><p>************</p><p> </p><p>Bruce tossed and turned on his bed.  He could not get comfortable.  Something was not right.  His throat hurt and his nose was all sniffly…and the house just seemed too quiet.  Hugging his teddy bear to his chest, he whispered, "I can't go to sleep, Alvin.  Maybe we should go find Alfred or somebody."</p><p> </p><p>The little boy climbed out of bed and padded out of the room, dragging his teddy bear along.  The manor was dark and silent.  Perhaps everyone was already asleep.  Bruce walked a few doors down to the master bedroom.  Swiping his nose with his pajama sleeve, he peeked inside only to find an empty bed, covers still smooth according to Alfred's strict standards.</p><p> </p><p>Sighing, Bruce embarked down the staircase hoping to find Alfred in his spacious quarters.  Knocking on the door, the little boy waited patiently for the old man's greeting.  When none came, Bruce tentatively creaked open the door.  "Alfred?"  That room was empty as well.  He sniffed back a sneeze.  His throat was really starting to hurt bad.</p><p> </p><p>Stepping back into the long, dark hallway, Bruce swallowed nervously.  Was he alone?  Did everybody leave him here by himself?  He knew there had been an emergency for Batman earlier.  But he thought Alfred would have stayed…or they would have called Tim back over to be with him…or Barbara would have called her dad…or…</p><p> </p><p>"ACHOO!"  Rubbing his nose with his sleeve again, Bruce squeezed his bear tightly.  "I'm scared, Alvin.  I don't like being alone."</p><p> </p><p>"Who said you are alone, boy?"</p><p> </p><p>Bruce's eyes widened at the deep, menacing voice behind him.  It sounded like a monster.  It could be that crocodile again.  He had told Dick it was real!</p><p> </p><p>Slowly, Bruce turned to face the fiend.</p><p> </p><p>*********</p><p> </p><p>"I need more hands, Dick."  Leslie and Alfred were already gloved-hands deep at the Cave's operating table.</p><p> </p><p>Pointing to himself, Dick gawked at Leslie.  "You want me to…"</p><p> </p><p>"Master Dick, now is not the time to argue," Alfred crisply stated, staunching as much blood as he could with large cotton cloths.</p><p> </p><p>Steeling himself, Dick quickly donned scrubs, washed his arms to his elbows, and gloved up.  His eyes were used to seeing carnage and operational procedures.  However, he had never participated in actual surgery.  The young man was unsure how he would cope in the given situation.</p><p> </p><p>"What do I need to do?" he asked in a nervous voice.</p><p> </p><p>"You know how to insert an IV?"  It was really a rhetorical question.  Dr. Leslie had taught Dick that skill years' ago when Batman decided his partner should have some knowledge of first aid.  "We need to give him more blood," the doctor directed.</p><p> </p><p>Picking up the instruments needed and the bag of life-saving fluid, Dick quickly found a vein and waited for his next instructions.</p><p> </p><p>*********</p><p> </p><p>The man was huge!  Quite frightening—especially to a small boy.  The Bible story of David and Goliath flashed through Bruce's mind, quickly followed by Jack and the Beanstalk. </p><p> </p><p>"Are you a giant?"  Bruce asked in a small voice.  "Are you gonna eat me?"</p><p> </p><p>"Maybe."  The large man glared down at the boy through glowing red eyes set in a black mask.  "Unless you tell me what I need to know."</p><p> </p><p>"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers.  I know that much."  Swiping at his nose again, the little boy backed away from the unwanted guest.  "I don't want you in my house anymore.  I want you to leave."</p><p> </p><p>"This is <em>your</em> house?"  The giant laughed in a sinister way, noticing the boy's Batman emblem pajamas for the first time.  "You are a brazen one.  Perhaps the Bat <em>is</em> your father."</p><p> </p><p>"Batman?  You know about Batman?" Bruce questioned in awe.  "Who are you?"</p><p> </p><p>"I am called Bane."</p><p> </p><p>**********</p><p> </p><p>Peeling off the bloody scrubs, Dick asked, "What do we do now?"</p><p> </p><p>"Wait," Leslie said, as she closed the last of her sutures.  "He's stable for now.  But he lost a lot of blood and infection is a real possibility.  Those spikes were not the most sanitary objects."</p><p> </p><p>"But Jean Paul is strong…the `System' and his genetics give him a boosted immune system, right?" Dick queried, with great concern.</p><p> </p><p>"Yes," Leslie offered.  "But he's never been this badly injured.  Anybody else would have been dead hours ago."</p><p> </p><p>Mopping up the blood splattered floor, Alfred gave Dick a weary glance.  "Sir, would you mind checking in on Bruce?  I just realized no one has been upstairs with him for several hours now."</p><p> </p><p>"Sure," Dick answered, spying Barbara still sitting at the Cave's computers directing Batgirl's patrol of Gotham.  Jogging up the stairs, he thought about how easy it was to slip back into the role of Nightwing…but soon he would have larger boots to fill.</p><p> </p><p>*********</p><p> </p><p>"I am the one who broke the Bat!"</p><p> </p><p>"I know you," Bruce muttered hoarsely.  He frowned at the giant before him.  "I know who you are and what you did."</p><p> </p><p>"You know nothing, child," Bane spat in irritation.</p><p> </p><p>"I know I don't like you," Bruce huffed, crossing his little arms and squishing his teddy to his chest.</p><p> </p><p>Without hesitation, Bane's hand swung, backhanding the boy with a loud slap.</p><p> </p><p>Bruce felt the sting of the blow across his cheek.  His body collapsed against its force.  It hurt.  It hurt really bad!  Holding his burning cheek, Bruce rolled into a ball on the floor and wailed.</p><p> </p><p>"Silence, boy," Bane growled.</p><p> </p><p>Like any five year old, this statement only made Bruce cry louder.</p><p> </p><p>Frustrated, Bane yanked the boy into the air by the scruff of his Batman pajamas.  "Insolent weakling!"</p><p> </p><p>*********</p><p> </p><p>As soon as he stepped from behind the clock entrance in the study, Dick felt a cold hand grip his heart.  A child was crying…really crying.  <em>His</em> child.   Howling would have been a better word.  The distressing sound was coming from the hallway.  Dick shot to the door where he came face to face with a real nightmare.</p><p> </p><p>Anger sparked inside him at what he was now witnessing.  Dick raged, "Put him down, Bane!"</p><p> </p><p>The massive man swiveled his head to see this new threat.  "Another subordinate.  Where is the Bat?"</p><p> </p><p>With Bruce still swinging precariously in enemy hands, Dick answered cautiously, "He's been on vacation, Bane.  He'll be coming to look for you real soon, though…and if you don't put the boy down, he's going to find you not looking so pretty."</p><p> </p><p>The overgrown brute studied the sniffling child dangling from his fist.  "It is truly disappointing how the Batman does not have a more promising legacy."  He simply tossed Bruce over to Dick, who caught the boy and held him close.  Bane continued his taunt.  "He is not worthy of his birthright.  Maybe one day I shall put him out of his misery—like I did tonight, with that pretender—Azrael."</p><p> </p><p>"Get out, Bane!" Dick ground through clenched teeth.  "If you're smart, you'll leave Gotham and never come back—because if I see you again, I'm going to break you in two for Bruce's sake."</p><p> </p><p>Laughing, Bane retorted, "Someday soon then.  Someday very soon."</p><p> </p><p>As the monster disappeared down the hall, Bruce clung to his protector and muttered between sniffles, "I really don't like that man."</p><p> </p><p>TBC…</p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Cherry Flavored Naps</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Waves of Change<br/><br/>Chapter 11<br/><br/>Cherry Flavored Naps<br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/>"Here we are, Master Bruce." Alfred handed over a small mug of<br/>hot chocolate. "Take care. It is quite warm."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Bruce sat on a counter near the large computer system in the Batcave.<br/>By now, his nose was almost completely clogged and his throat ached<br/>worse than ever. Dick stood next to the boy, watching a dark bruise<br/>slowly form on Bruce's cheek. Bane would pay dearly for that.<br/><br/><br/><br/>Sniffling, Bruce attempted to drink from the steaming mug. However, his<br/>hands were still trembling from his earlier encounter and he ended up<br/>spilling some of it on himself. He had forgotten how frightening it was<br/>to be a child. He hated it. He wanted to be a grown-up again! Batman<br/>wouldn't let him be scared.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Easy there, big guy," Dick cautioned, taking the mug so he<br/>could clean the boy with a nearby towel.<br/><br/><br/><br/>Bruce silently accepted the help. What choice did he have? After all,<br/>he was nothing but an `insolent weakling,' whatever that meant.<br/>Bringing up his pajama sleeve, Bruce swiped at his nose again only to be<br/>reprimanded.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Master Bruce, one never uses his sleeve for such purposes. We have<br/>tissues and handkerchiefs." Alfred handed Bruce a neatly folded<br/>handkerchief. "Now blow," he instructed.<br/><br/><br/><br/>For a second time, Bruce complied without argument. When the<br/>handkerchief was moved away, Alfred put his hand to the child's<br/>forehead. "I do believe you have a fever, my dear boy."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"I do?" Bruce asked, sounding tired and hoarse.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"I believe so," the old gentleman stated. "Perhaps Leslie<br/>will take a look at you when she finishes with Jean Paul."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"What's wrong with JP?" Bruce strained to see around his<br/>two guardians. He could just make out the injured man in the bed in the<br/>medical bay. Pulling his eyes back, Bruce noticed the hard line of<br/>Dick's mouth. "Bane hurt him, too. That giant said he had<br/>killed him! He didn't really kill JP, did he?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"No, my dear boy," Alfred answered. "Jean Paul is not dead.<br/>However, he did suffer very severe injuries."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"That Bane guy is so mean. Why does he want to hurt everybody?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Sweeping Bruce up into his arms, Dick tried to allay the boy's<br/>fears. "Now don't you worry about Bane…Batman is going to<br/>deal with him very soon, okay?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"But didn't he hurt Batman before?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Dick hesitated slightly. "Well…yes…but that was a long time<br/>ago and because…well, because Batman didn't have anyone to help<br/>him."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Oh." Bruce stared into Dick's eyes for a bit before<br/>wrapping tiny arms around the man's neck. "I'm glad Batman<br/>has help now. He gets lonely, too. It hurts to be alone."<br/><br/><br/><br/>The intensity of the boy's hug took Dick by surprise. But it was<br/>Bruce's words that shocked him most. Now that he was a child, Bruce<br/>could be so honest about his feelings and thoughts, both past and<br/>present. It made Dick think just how misunderstood his adopted father<br/>had been as an adult—how Bruce had always been judged cold,<br/>heartless, emotionless and how far that assessment had been from the<br/>truth.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Batman will never have to be alone again, Bruce. Never."<br/>Pulling the child to eyelevel, Dick spoke directly, "We won't<br/>let him, will we?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Bruce smiled and shook his head.<br/><br/><br/><br/>*********<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Hey there, Bright Eyes. Waking up so soon?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Jean Paul lifted heavy eyelids to see who was talking to him.<br/>"…Barbara?..."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Anybody else call you `Bright Eyes?'" Barbara placed a<br/>hand on his right arm. "Can I get you anything?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"…A body that doesn't hurt?..." Jean Paul answered slowly.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Are you in a lot of pain? Leslie dosed you up on morphine not long<br/>ago. But I can always ask and see if you're allowed more."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"…No. Just tired…Think I'll sleep some more…" The<br/>young man began to drift off.<br/><br/><br/><br/>Barbara lightly tapped his arm. "Before you do, can you manage to<br/>stay awake for another minute or two? You've got a visitor."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Jean Paul forced his lids open and gazed over at the guest Barbara had<br/>indicated. "Sure," he said, finding just enough strength to<br/>motion encouragingly at the boy approaching him.<br/><br/><br/><br/>Bruce tentatively walked to the bed. "Hey, JP," he squeaked<br/>shyly.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Hello Bruce."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"I'm sorry you got hurt," Bruce said, as his eyes took in<br/>the heavy bandages covering extensive wounds. The monster in the<br/>hallway flashed through the boy's mind.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Me too," Jean Paul replied, cracking a weak grin.<br/><br/><br/><br/>The boy gave him a lopsided smile. "I hope you feel better soon. I<br/>can draw you a picture or something."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Fighting the sedatives flowing through his veins, Jean Paul blinked<br/>steadily. "I like pictures…and I am already feeling<br/>better…knowing I'm home…I'm safe…" He could<br/>feel the blackness pulling him back into its clutches.<br/><br/><br/><br/>Bruce began to say something when a coughing spell struck him. It<br/>sounded deep and congested.<br/><br/><br/><br/>Through his own fog, Jean Paul reached out his right hand, brushing the<br/>boy's arm. "You're sick, my little friend."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Dick suddenly stepped into view behind Bruce. "I think I know two<br/>people who need their rest."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"The doctor agrees," Leslie answered from a few more feet away.<br/>Reaching out for Bruce's hand, she said, "You can visit Jean<br/>Paul later."<br/><br/><br/><br/>The boy waved farewell as Leslie led him away. Jean Paul wearily waved<br/>back, watching the others leave the area. Believing himself to be<br/>alone, he allowed his body to relax and began to sink into<br/>unconsciousness.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"You did great tonight, Jean Paul."<br/><br/><br/><br/>The voice startled him. Cracking his eyes back open, the injured man<br/>looked up dazed. "What?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Still standing beside the medical bed, Dick offered a smile. "You<br/>did great. I'm proud of you."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Jean Paul stared at him for a few seconds, before shutting his eyes. He<br/>bit his bottom lip and nodded his head. Finally, he whispered,<br/>"Thanks."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Gently patting Jean Paul's unharmed shoulder, Dick said, "Get<br/>some rest now. We need you."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Without opening his eyes, Jean Paul nodded once more. A single tear<br/>trekked its way down his cheek as he let out a deep sigh.<br/><br/><br/><br/>Dick stood watch over the slumbering man for a few more minutes.<br/>Slowly, the state of affairs was confronting him. Batman was the leader<br/>of the pack, as it were. He was the one the rest looked to for<br/>guidance…leadership. But now that had been taken from them. The<br/>whole Bat clan was floundering. It was time Dick took charge. How did<br/>Bruce handle all the pressure? No wonder the man always seemed so<br/>distant. On any given day, Bruce must have had a thousand things on his<br/>plate and then some. If he allowed his mind or heart to be distracted<br/>in any way, that could spell disaster for the universe, the world, the<br/>country, Gotham City, or even his family!<br/><br/><br/><br/>His family. Glancing back down at Jean Paul, Dick marveled at how his<br/>simple acknowledgement had affected the injured man. In the past,<br/>Batman had been unable or unwilling to openly compliment Azrael or Jean<br/>Paul. Perhaps this was the first time Jean Paul had ever heard positive<br/>feedback. Dick decided to remedy that. Turning to go upstairs, the<br/>Batman's heir made a conscious decision—from now on Batman would<br/>be more encouraging to his partners.<br/><br/><br/><br/>**********<br/><br/><br/><br/>"One-oh-one," Leslie announced, as she read the thermometer.<br/>"You are one sick little boy, Bruce."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Did Bane make me sick…like JP?" Bruce wondered aloud,<br/>rubbing his sore cheek.<br/><br/><br/><br/>Shaking her head, Leslie stated, "I seriously doubt that. According<br/>to Alfred, you took a dip in the fountain earlier. The cold water and<br/>sharp wind have probably brought on a simple cold."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Bruce answered with a sudden coughing fit.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Here, take a spoonful of this," Leslie said, as she poured some<br/>red medicine onto a spoon.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"It's gonna taste yucky!" Bruce objected by scooting<br/>further back into his pillows.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"It's cherry flavored," Leslie announced, as if this would<br/>solve the problem.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"I hate cherries!"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Since when? I saw you eating cherries on an ice cream sundae this<br/>past Fourth of July," Leslie argued.<br/><br/><br/><br/>Bruce frowned. "That's `cause Alfred made it for my<br/>birthday and I didn't want to hurt his feelings."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Really?" Intrigued, Leslie glanced sideways at the boy.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"I think so," Bruce muttered. "I don't know."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Tell you what," Leslie bargained. "How about you take the<br/>cherry flavored medicine this once…suffer through it…and<br/>I'll send over some bubble gum flavored medicine for you to take the<br/>rest of the week? Deal?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Bruce mulled the thought over in his head, and finally opened his mouth.<br/>He gulped the offending liquid down as fast as he could and waved his<br/>hands in disgust.<br/><br/><br/><br/>Leslie laughed at his antics. Handing over a glass of water, she said,<br/>"Drink this, dear." After replacing the glass on the bedside<br/>table, the doctor got up to leave. She tucked the boy in and turned off<br/>the lamp light. "Now get some rest, Bruce. I'll come by to<br/>check on you soon."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Walking down the hallway, she was met by Alfred and Dick ascending the<br/>staircase.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"So how is he?" Dick questioned.<br/><br/><br/><br/>Leslie pursed her lips. "We need to have a serious discussion."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"I thought it was just a cold," Dick said, concern filling his<br/>eyes.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Leslie, my dear, is something troubling you?" Alfred asked,<br/>knowing all too well the fiery glint in the doctor's eyes.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"I will not stand by and watch Bruce grow into a troubled soul for<br/>the second time," Leslie demanded. "In the past two days, he<br/>has run away to the moon, cracked his head open on the coffee table,<br/>been chased by paparazzi, watched his guardian be arrested, fallen into<br/>freezing waters, been attacked by a criminal, and borne witness to what<br/>that same criminal can do to another man."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Dick spread his arms in protest. "Leslie, it's been a lousy two<br/>days. I'll give you that. But…"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"No. Dick, I have had enough. We all have an opportunity to stop<br/>this right now. Bruce is young enough to forget. You have a noble<br/>career as a police officer. You could get a job right here in Gotham if<br/>you wanted. It would allow you to fight crime, but live a normal,<br/>healthy lifestyle. Bruce deserves a normal life. You deserve a<br/>normal life. Alfred, Barbara, and Tim deserve one. And God knows,<br/>Cassandra and Jean Paul need it worse than any of you." Leslie<br/>pointed to Bruce's door. "Do not raise him in a house of<br/>tragedy. His spirit is not strong enough for that."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Leslie," Alfred began. "I would be the first to welcome<br/>such a change in this family. You know this to be true. However, over<br/>the years, I have come to realize that Master Bruce and his boys would<br/>be absolutely miserable if not allowed to protect people in this manner.<br/>To ask Master Dick and the others to give up their masks would be most<br/>detrimental."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Yeah," Dick agreed with a quick nod.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"I am not finished, sir."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Oh."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Alfred sighed deeply. "Perhaps, a treaty of sorts, between two<br/>warring parties, can be formulated. Those who are ages 16 and above<br/>with masks may keep them for as long as they like, but those below such<br/>ages will never be allowed to wear one, nor will they be trained to wear<br/>one. Understood? Bruce will never put on a mask again. He will not be<br/>your Robin, Master Dick."<br/><br/><br/><br/>The thought had not crossed Dick's mind. Bruce was still so young.<br/>But it would stand to reason that within the next few years, Tim would<br/>want to `graduate' into a new identity. If Dick were Batman,<br/>Tim could be Nightwing and that would leave Robin open for a certain<br/>young boy. How could he take the opportunity away from Bruce, the very<br/>person who had begun the legacy? It didn't seem right. It<br/>didn't seem fair. He couldn't agree to it.<br/><br/><br/><br/>Straightening to his full height, Dick simply stated, "I can't<br/>promise that and you both know why."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Alfred's face turned stern. "Because you're bloody stubborn<br/>and hardheaded."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Dick had to reign in his fiery temper. This was Alfred. Usually, the<br/>old man reserved heated tongue lashings for his oldest charge…Bruce.<br/>Again, the realization dawned on Dick that Bruce no longer filled that<br/>position. He did! "I learned it from the best now, didn't<br/>I?" Dick pointed toward the little boy's room.<br/><br/><br/><br/>Some of the fire went out of Alfred's eyes, but not entirely.<br/>"I suppose you are correct in saying so."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Look," Dick began to explain his position. "I can't<br/>promise, because we all know exactly how Bruce will react. We've<br/>just stated it. He's stubborn and hardheaded. He'll fight us<br/>all the way if we say `no.'"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"What makes you think he'll want to join the crime fighting team<br/>to begin with?" Leslie demanded. "Yes, he has the same basic<br/>personality type, but he does not have the tortured soul that drove him<br/>to such a life."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Maybe not," Dick admitted. "But I do know that he<br/>won't want to be left out. He'll feel like we are punishing him<br/>for being a kid. Tragedy or no tragedy, Bruce tends to turn things in<br/>on himself. He thinks everything is his fault. It would be no<br/>different if we withheld his own legacy from him." Dick could see<br/>that Alfred was considering his words, so he pressed on. "And there<br/>is a lesson this family has already learned in the past. Look at me.<br/>Alfred, Bruce tried to keep me from being Robin and what did I do?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"You ran away and operated on your own, sir."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Exactly." Dick shrugged. "I would rather Bruce learn the<br/>skills needed to survive on the streets from us, than by trying to go it<br/>on his own when he's old enough to walk away. After all, he was<br/>determined enough the first time around to travel the world and master<br/>skills with only you to follow him, Alfred. What's to say he<br/>wouldn't do that again?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>When Alfred hung his head in defeat, Leslie huffed, "I will never<br/>understand any of you! That little boy needs love…not<br/>violence!" With that, she stormed down the rest of the stairs and<br/>out of the manor.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Alfred," Dick said gently. "I promise I won't start<br/>any training until Bruce asks me. So if he never asks, then I'll<br/>never pressure him into a mask. I promise."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Nodding slightly, Alfred squared his shoulders and returned, "Then I<br/>shall pray he shows no interest in becoming a crime fighter."<br/><br/><br/><br/>***********<br/><br/><br/><br/>Roy Harper sat watching his daughter sleep. It was at times like these<br/>he was glad he had an anchor to keep him from drifting away. The news<br/>reports had been flooding the media for weeks. He didn't understand<br/>and likely never would. In fact, he was rather suspicious of all the<br/>commotion. How could one of his best friends have died and then come<br/>back? A whole week after the fact! And how on earth could the Bat of<br/>all people be dead?<br/><br/><br/><br/>Superman had sent word that the Bat Clan requested space and time to<br/>heal. Wally had insisted that the Titans wait for Dick to come to them.<br/>Well, Roy had waited long enough. He was not about to sit on his rump<br/>and do nothing. Nope. If anything, Roy Harper was a man of action.<br/><br/><br/><br/>The archer stood up and kissed his slumbering daughter on the forehead.<br/>"How about you and me takin' a trip to Gotham tomorrow,<br/>sweetie?" Smiling smugly to himself, Roy said, "Thought you<br/>might like that."<br/><br/><br/><br/>**********<br/><br/><br/><br/>Dick sat down on the bed beside Bruce. The little boy had to breathe<br/>through his mouth, and the wheeze in his chest was very evident. Maybe<br/>they should call Leslie back. Reaching over, he felt the warm forehead<br/>and cheeks.<br/><br/><br/><br/>Bruce stirred and muttered, "Dick? I don't feel good."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"You still have a little fever. Leslie gave you some medicine<br/>already."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"It won't work," Bruce stated flatly.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Why not?" Dick questioned.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"It was cherry flavored and I don't like cherries," Bruce<br/>mumbled, as his eyes began to close again. "I think I'm<br/>allergic to `em."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Dick could not help the chuckle that escaped. "Well, I'll<br/>inform Alfred of that. He'll know what to do."<br/><br/><br/><br/>" `kay." Bruce yawned again and turned over on his side,<br/>hugging Alvin to his chest. "I'm so sleepy."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"I don't doubt it. You've stayed up half the night.<br/>It'll be daylight soon." Dick ruffled the boy's damp hair<br/>and said, "But you sleep as late and long as you want to. I'll<br/>be right down the hall, if you need me."<br/><br/><br/><br/>The only response he got was the sound of Bruce's soft snores.<br/><br/><br/><br/>TBC…</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Sucker Punches</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Waves of Change<br/><br/>Chapter 12<br/><br/>Sucker Punches<br/><br/><br/><br/>Alfred tsked as he took the thermometer out of the boy's mouth,<br/>"Your fever has yet to break, Master Bruce."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Coughing, Bruce pushed his shivering arms back under the covers.<br/>"My throat hurts bad, Alfred."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"No doubt, my boy," Alfred said, as he poured more medicine onto<br/>a spoon. He was quite concerned over the boy's condition.<br/>Bruce's fever had risen to 103.4 and he was more than a little<br/>congested. "Here we go."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Spying the red liquid, Bruce groaned, "Not that cherry stuff again. <br/>What about the bubble gum medicine?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Dr. Leslie has yet to arrive. I am certain she will not forget her<br/>promise. Until then, I suggest you take the other." Alfred<br/>directed the spoon toward the little boy. "Now, be a good lad."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Dick walked into the old nursery in time to see Bruce's display of<br/>disgust as he swallowed the cough syrup. Chuckling, the young man<br/>asked, "Is it really that bad?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Downing the glass of water handed to him, Bruce merely grunted,<br/>"Uh-huh."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Sitting on the bed next to the patient, Dick felt the warm forehead.<br/>"Not feeling any better, huh?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"No," Bruce muttered, eyes fighting to stay open. "I'm<br/>cold. Can I have another blanket?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"I am afraid not, dear boy," Alfred answered, as he moved to the<br/>door. "We must try our best to lower your fever. More coverings<br/>would lend us no aid."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"What?" Bruce asked hoarsely.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"More blankets would make you warmer," Dick explained.<br/>"That would make your fever go up. We want it to go down."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Oh." The little boy's teeth chattered as chills began to<br/>wrack his body. He really didn't understand how getting warmer<br/>could be a bad thing.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Perhaps it is best I contact Dr. Leslie now," Alfred said,<br/>casting a meaningful eye at Dick. "She would like to be informed of<br/>Master Bruce's fever spike."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"I'll stay here," Dick answered. He watched as Alfred left<br/>the room and then he looked back down at Bruce. The little boy appeared<br/>absolutely miserable. "So," he began, "is there anything<br/>else you need or want?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Bruce thought the question over before he mumbled, "Can I watch a<br/>movie or something?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Sure." Dick moved over to the small entertainment center on<br/>the opposite wall and pulled out a drawer containing a multitude of<br/>DVDs. "Which one do you want to see?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"The Grey Ghost one." Then Bruce hesitantly asked, "Do you<br/>think I can watch it on the big TV downstairs?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"You should really stay in bed," Dick said, noncommittally.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"But I'll stay on the couch and rest. I promise." Blinking<br/>his eyes and frowning, Bruce pleaded like the five-year-old he had<br/>become.<br/><br/><br/><br/>Unable to say no to the boy's fever-bright eyes, Dick finally gave<br/>in, saying, "Okay. Grab a couple of pillows."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"And Alvin," Bruce added, picking up his teddy bear.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"And Alvin," Dick echoed, carrying a blanket along with the<br/>movie.<br/><br/><br/><br/>The pair headed downstairs and into the large family room near the<br/>foyer. Dick popped the movie into the player. As the large flat screen<br/>TV came to life, Bruce settled down on the couch and pulled Alvin close<br/>to his chest.<br/><br/><br/><br/>Just as the opening credits came on, Alfred walked in and motioned for<br/>Dick to follow him. As they stopped outside the entryway, Alfred began,<br/>"Master Dick…"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Trying his best to avoid another tongue lashing, Dick quickly began to<br/>explain, "I know he should be in bed, but I just couldn't tell<br/>him `no.' Besides, he promised to rest on the couch."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Alfred raised an eyebrow at the unprovoked confession. "I shall<br/>pray that this is not the beginning of a trend." Taking a deep<br/>breath, he continued, "As I was saying, Leslie was regrettably<br/>detained at the clinic. However, she left strict orders to deliver<br/>Master Bruce to the emergency room should his temperature rise to 104<br/>degrees."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Dick glanced into the family room at Bruce. The boy was having another<br/>coughing spell. "This isn't just a cold, is it, Alfred? You<br/>and Leslie are both hiding something."<br/><br/><br/><br/>The older man placed a comforting hand on Dick's shoulder. "We<br/>have noticed a certain frailty in Master Bruce's condition. Since<br/>he has been de-aged, he tires more easily than most children and bruises<br/>more easily as well. And now this sudden illness that has escalated<br/>rapidly…" Pausing, Alfred shrugged. "We cannot be sure what<br/>reaction a living body would have when exposed to such mystical powers<br/>as were present in that Lazarus Pit."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Swallowing hard, Dick nodded his head. "I'll stay with him<br/>until it's time for patrol."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Very good, sir." Alfred turned his attention to the wide-eyed<br/>boy watching the Grey Ghost track down a mad bomber. "I shall make<br/>him an afternoon snack."<br/><br/><br/><br/>As Alfred left for the kitchen, Dick returned to the couch and let Bruce<br/>rest his head on his leg. Within minutes, the boy was sound asleep.<br/>Dick was soon dozing as well, but he awakened when he heard the sound of<br/>the doorbell. Carefully, he slid off the couch, trying not to jostle<br/>the slumbering child.<br/><br/><br/><br/>Stepping into the foyer, Dick quietly opened the front door. "Roy?<br/>What are you doing here?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Roy Harper's eyes bulged and his mouth gaped open at the man before<br/>him. "What am I…? What do you mean? What am I…? What are<br/>you…?" Unable to express a coherent thought, much less convert<br/>his conflicting emotions into words, Roy let his frustration<br/>fly—right into Dick's face.<br/><br/><br/><br/>The unexpected blow knocked Dick backward, landing him on his rear-end.<br/>"Roy," Dick moaned, wiping at his left nostril which was seeping<br/>blood. "What's wrong with you?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Before Roy could answer, a little hoarse voice cried out, "Leave him<br/>alone!"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Roy blinked at the dark haired boy that rushed out of the family room<br/>toward him.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Go away!" The boy delivered a hard kick to the archer's<br/>shin.<br/><br/><br/><br/>Doubling over, Roy cursed and grabbed his leg.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Daddy!" Lian dashed from the outside steps to her father, who<br/>was now crouched in the main entrance. Turning furious eyes on the<br/>other child, she yelled, "You hurt my daddy!"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Only cuz he hurt mine…my…uh…well, he<br/>hurt…Dick," Bruce finished weakly, his own eyes brimming with<br/>tears and stifling another round of vicious coughs.<br/><br/><br/><br/>Seeing the beginnings of a breakdown and wanting to keep the sick child<br/>calm, Dick extended his hand from his place on the floor. "Bruce,<br/>come here." When the boy reached him, the young man wiped<br/>Bruce's tears away and said, "It's okay. I'm not<br/>hurt."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"But…you're bleeding," Bruce whispered.<br/><br/><br/><br/>Dick snorted. "It'll take more than a sucker punch to do any<br/>real damage." Glaring at Roy over the child's head, he added,<br/>"Besides, Harper knows better than to throw real punches in front of<br/>impressionable kids."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Tell that to the soccer player you got there," Roy muttered,<br/>still rubbing his leg.<br/><br/><br/><br/>Dick smirked at his friend. "You don't know the half of<br/>it." Then his eyes moved to the little girl standing off to the<br/>side, looking at him in curious wonder. "There's my little<br/>sweetheart!"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Frowning, Bruce slid behind Dick's back, scowling at the other<br/>child.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Uncle Dick?" Lian approached hesitantly. "Daddy said you<br/>went to Heaven."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"I had a guardian angel watching out for me," Dick said, as he<br/>pulled the girl into a hug. "Hey, I want to introduce you to<br/>someone." Tugging Bruce from around him, the young man continued,<br/>"Lian, this is Bruce. Bruce, this is Lian."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Hello, Bruce," Lian said cheerily, the last few minutes<br/>seemingly forgotten.<br/><br/><br/><br/>However, Bruce was having none of it. Even though he was in a small<br/>package, he was still the same Bruce Wayne with the same personality.<br/>He was notorious for holding grudges. Sticking out his bottom lip, the<br/>little boy defiantly crossed his arms.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Be nice, Bruce," Dick warned, as he regained his feet.<br/><br/><br/><br/>Bruce stood his ground…until Alfred suddenly materialized behind<br/>him.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Master Bruce, be a gentleman. Answer the young lady."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Huffing, Bruce muttered, "Hello." Then turning to Alfred, he<br/>murmured, "I'm tired. Can I go back to bed?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Face softening, the older man held out his hand to Bruce. "Of<br/>course. If everyone will kindly excuse us."<br/><br/><br/><br/>As he watched the pair ascend the staircase, Dick felt a tug on his<br/>shirt.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Uncle Dick, are you that boy's daddy?" Lian asked.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Yeah, Dick. Exactly who is that kid? And why's he here? And<br/>how the hell are you here? And where's old dark and gloomy? And<br/>who gave you the right to be less than perfect?" Roy advanced and<br/>began to poke his finger into Dick's chest. "You damned well<br/>better not ever die again, because you're supposed to be the one<br/>person I can count on in the whole universe! So…Don't. Die.<br/>On. Me. Again!" On that last word, Roy yanked Dick into a fierce<br/>hug.<br/><br/><br/><br/>***********<br/><br/><br/><br/>Coughing again, Bruce climbed into bed. He was so cold and exhausted,<br/>not to mention hurt over the events from downstairs. How dare that<br/>girl—hugging his…?<br/><br/><br/><br/>Sighing, he rubbed his forehead. Remembering his past was getting so<br/>much harder. He didn't call Dick "Daddy." However, Bruce<br/>thought that Dick might be his real dad. He acted like his dad. But<br/>something told Bruce this wasn't right. He couldn't remember<br/>why Dick was not his dad. Shouldn't he have a mom and dad, like<br/>other kids? Sniffling and trying to hide his tears, Bruce rolled over<br/>on his side. Alfred was straightening up his room, while reciting<br/>Shakespeare. For some unknown reason, the strange dialogue calmed the<br/>boy's questions and fears. Sleep finally found him.<br/><br/><br/><br/>*********<br/><br/><br/><br/>Lian watched Spongebob Squarepants on theTV, while Dick told Roy the<br/>details of the past few months.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Damn, man…" Roy started.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Daaaad!" Lian called. "You're not supposed to say<br/>those ugly words!"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Casting an eye toward his daughter, Roy rephrased, "Dang! You mean<br/>to tell me Batman just kicked me?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Nodding his head, Dick said, "That's pretty much the gist of it.<br/>But to be honest, I don't really think he knew who you were…and<br/>I'm not sure how much longer he'll be able to remember much of<br/>anything from the past."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"He's losing memories?" Roy questioned. "Dick, man,<br/>I'm sorry."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Dick bit his lip and looked away. His gaze fell on the teddy bear lying<br/>on the floor by the sofa. Picking it up, he gently traced the frown on<br/>the bear's face. "Wally said that you two could help me through<br/>it. And I guess I've lost my real parents, too…but that was a<br/>life time ago." Bringing his eyes back to his friend, he admitted,<br/>"For the first time in a long time, I feel helpless and lost…and<br/>the first thing I want to do is run to Bruce and tell him. But he's<br/>not here."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"It'll get better, Robbie," Roy sympathized, slipping into<br/>old nicknames. "You'll always hurt, but it gets better. You<br/>know that." At Dick's nod, the archer clapped his hands<br/>together. "Enough of this chatter. Let's get down to business.<br/>When are you going out on the town again?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Tonight," Dick answered with a smile. "At least, if Bruce<br/>doesn't get any worse."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Want some company?" Roy asked.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Sure, but what about…?" Dick motioned with his thumb<br/>toward Lian.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Oh," Roy shrugged his shoulders. "Couldn't Bruce have<br/>a friend over for the night?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Laughing, Dick said, "Well, I'm not sure we can call them<br/>`friends' just yet. But I'm sure Alfred won't mind<br/>having her. She's never any trouble…unlike a certain other<br/>child I know."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Did he really teleport to the Watchtower?" Roy shook his head.<br/>"That's just wild!"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Yeah, he also jumped off the balcony in hope that Superman would<br/>catch him," Dick said. "Alfred was not amused."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Ahem."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"How does he do it?" Roy questioned, staring at Alfred who<br/>seemed to have materialized in the doorway.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Master Dick, a word please," Alfred said, grimly.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Sure." Dick stood up. "Be right back," he said.<br/>Taking the teddy bear with him, Dick found himself standing in the<br/>foyer, once more, and listening to Alfred.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Sir, am I to understand you are considering going on patrol this<br/>evening?" Alfred stared intently at the young man.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Batman has got to make an appearance. That's the whole reason<br/>Bane showed up last night. I can't let that go! It's a danger<br/>to us all," Dick stated emphatically.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"There is a little boy upstairs with a dangerously high fever. I do<br/>not think it wise of you…"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Alfred, you know you can call me if his condition gets worse.<br/>Besides, there's nothing for me to do here but sit around and<br/>worry." Toying with the teddy bear in his hands, Dick said,<br/>"I'll go stay with him for a few more hours. But unless<br/>he's doing any worse, I'm still going to go out on patrol."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"As you wish," Alfred said passively. He turned to walk away,<br/>but spun to gaze back at Dick. "I hope you realize how much you<br/>mean to him…now more than ever."<br/><br/><br/><br/>Dick sighed. It felt like numerous burdens had just been stacked upon<br/>his shoulders. He called into the living room for Roy and Lian to come<br/>with him. The trio made their way up the stairs and then, more quietly,<br/>into Bruce's bedroom.<br/><br/><br/><br/>The little boy was sound asleep. Moving to the sitting area that<br/>adjoined the room, Dick softly turned on the TV for Lian and motioned to<br/>Roy to have a seat in a rocker.<br/><br/><br/><br/>Then, Dick took the teddy bear over to the bed and placed it on the<br/>pillow by Bruce's head. He couldn't help but notice the tear<br/>streaks staining the boy's cheek. "It's going to be okay,<br/>Bruce. You'll see. We're going to be okay," he whispered,<br/>gently brushing back the child's stubborn cowlick.<br/><br/><br/><br/>Rejoining Roy and Lian, Dick sat down on an ottoman. "So Roy? Got<br/>any advice for a new dad?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>With a wide grin, Roy answered back, "Do I? Man, are you in<br/>deep!"<br/><br/><br/><br/>***********<br/><br/><br/><br/>At the shrill ringing of the telephone, Tim sat up on his bed, where he<br/>had been sprawled on his stomach reading for his literature class.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"I'll get it!" he called, reaching for the phone on his<br/>bedside table. "Hello?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Hey, Timbo! Whatcha doin' tonight?" Dick crossed his<br/>fingers, hoping his plan would work out.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Not much," Tim answered. "Why? What's up?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Well, Alfred's going to need some help tonight," Dick<br/>began.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"You're going out? I thought Bruce was sick," Tim stated.<br/>He was already sensing the reason for the call.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Yeah, that's part of why I'm calling. The big guy really<br/>needs to make an appearance. I've got to go on patrol…and the<br/>sooner the better."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"You couldn't wait one more night?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"You know what happened here last night, right?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Tim knew. He had talked to Alfred and Barbara earlier. "Yeah, I<br/>heard about Bane."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"He's not the only one that will start to notice Batman's<br/>absence. We can't afford any more surprises like that." Dick<br/>took a breath and added, "Besides, Roy's here and he can back me<br/>up."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Oh, now I get it," Tim said, lacing his tone with irritation.<br/>"Lian's with him, and you both need a babysitter, so you decided<br/>to call me."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"It's not exactly like that…"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"That's exactly what it's like!" Tim sighed.<br/>"Where's Barbara?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Down in the cave working and keeping an eye on Jean Paul."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Cassie?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Running ops for Babs," Dick said, not liking where the<br/>conversation was heading.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Jim Gordon?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"I can't call him to…"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Why not? You can call me to be your enabler!"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Enabler? What are you talking about, Tim?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>Tim huffed, "Bruce is sick. He's your responsibility. But<br/>who's going to be stuck taking care of him? Alfred and me…while<br/>you're doing what? Hanging out with a friend, who is also leaving<br/>his child in our care by the way. Exactly who is getting the better end<br/>of the deal?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"It's not like we're going out to a bar to scout out<br/>chicks," Dick reasoned. "It's patrol! You know how hard<br/>that can be, especially after you've been out of the game for a<br/>while."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Yeah, whatever. Tell Alfred I'll help him, because I don't<br/>want to see him overloaded with all the work," Tim muttered.<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Tim…"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"I'll be there in an hour."<br/><br/><br/><br/>"…Don't be this way," Dick said, as he heard a click<br/>followed by a dial tone.<br/><br/><br/><br/>To be continued…</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Silent Remains</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Waves of Change</p><p>Chapter 13</p><p>Silent Remains</p><p> </p><p>Opening his eyes, Bruce looked around his room.  It was dark except for his nightlight in the corner.  His chest felt like an elephant was sitting on top of him, making it hard to breathe.  Sliding weakly off of the bed, Bruce gained wobbly feet and made his way out into the hallway, dragging Alvin with him.  For a moment, he stood, unsure of where to go, but then he heard voices downstairs and began to slowly head to the first floor.</p><p> </p><p>***********</p><p> </p><p>Alfred stood patiently listening to the teenager who paced the living room in agitation.</p><p> </p><p>"…I'm just saying I thought Dick would care more for him.  To go out when Bruce is that sick?  Does he not realize…?"  Tim stopped mid-tirade, as he saw the little boy coming down the staircase.  "Bruce?  What are you doing up?"</p><p> </p><p>Bruce stumbled over to Tim and Alfred.  He was swaying unsteadily on his feet.  Alfred knelt beside him and ran worried eyes over the boy.  Bruce's face was flushed, eyes dull, and his chest rattled with each ragged breath.</p><p> </p><p>"Master Tim, please go inform Miss Barbara we shall be going to the hospital shortly."</p><p> </p><p>Tim began to move away, but stopped to go back to the child.  Bending down, he hugged Bruce and whispered, "You need to hurry up and get better."</p><p> </p><p>Bruce leaned slightly into the embrace and patted Tim's back.  However, he remained silent.</p><p> </p><p>When Tim left for the cave, Alfred placed Bruce on the couch.  Then the older gentleman hastily gathered up a small bag in case his fears were realized.</p><p> </p><p>***********</p><p> </p><p>"Dude, I promise I'll be careful."</p><p> </p><p>"No."</p><p> </p><p>"I won't do anything reckless."</p><p> </p><p>"No."</p><p> </p><p>"I'll act like Lian is with us."</p><p> </p><p>"No."</p><p> </p><p>"Please?" Roy whined from the passenger seat of the Batmobile.</p><p> </p><p>"No."  Dick gripped the steering wheel possessively.  He was fully dressed in the Bat suit, except for the mask.</p><p> </p><p>"Why not?"</p><p> </p><p>"Because."</p><p> </p><p>"I'll go the speed limit…even under it!" Roy stated emphatically.</p><p> </p><p>"Roy, you are not driving the Batmobile."</p><p> </p><p>"You're just like him!"</p><p> </p><p>Dick shrugged.  "Is that such a bad thing?"</p><p> </p><p>"It wasn't meant as a compliment," Roy muttered.</p><p> </p><p>Staring at the winding road before him, Dick allowed a sad smile.  "You know, a few years ago, I would've been hurt and angry at you for suggesting I'm anything like Bruce.  But I think I'm just beginning to understand why he acted that way and did some of the things that drove us all crazy."</p><p> </p><p>Roy shook his head.  "I know you love him.  He raised you and no doubt he cared.  I get that.  But he was no saint, Dick.  Don't idolize him."</p><p> </p><p>"Believe me, Roy, I know he wasn't perfect.  But none of us are…we all have faults.  And over these past two months, I've come to find out Bruce's biggest fault is that he cares too much."  Casting an eye toward his friend, Dick added, "I never knew the pressure he faced…all the people that depend on him and how many different directions he was pulled on a single day.  It's enough to make anyone anal."</p><p> </p><p>Roy snorted.  "Are you sure that's a strong enough word?"</p><p> </p><p>"Come on, man," Dick complained softly.  "Everything he did was driven by the desire to protect others—regardless of who they were or their status."</p><p> </p><p>Nodding, Roy said, "I'm grateful for his help in finding Lian when she was kidnapped a few years ago."</p><p> </p><p>"He was proud of you, Roy.  He told me after he came home."  Dick smiled at the memory.  "I went down in the cave to thank him for helping you.  He was sitting in his chair just staring off into space.  When I asked what he was thinking, he said, `How much I envy Roy Harper.'  And I knew exactly what he meant."</p><p> </p><p>"And what was that?" Roy asked, amazed the Bat would ever envy him.</p><p> </p><p>"He couldn't show his feelings or speak them," Dick answered.  "It scared him to care because that was too high a risk.  So he had to pretend to be cold.  You don't.  Every emotion is out there, especially your love for Lian."</p><p> </p><p>"Dick, I'm…"  Roy ran a nervous hand through his hair.  "I'm sorry for what I said…at the party."</p><p> </p><p>"I know," Dick said.  "It was a bad day for you.  I knew that then.  Sorry I made it worse."</p><p> </p><p>"Not like you meant to die…," Roy laughed at the absurd thought, "…on the anniversary of Ollie's death."</p><p> </p><p>"No, it's not," Dick agreed, with his own chuckle.  "Not like I meant for any of this to happen."  As they pulled into a dark alley, Dick parked the powerful vehicle and donned the mask.  "Enough talk.  Let's go find some trouble."</p><p> </p><p>"Now that's what I'm saying!"</p><p> </p><p>*********</p><p> </p><p>"Barbara!"  Tim shouted, as he raced down the cave's stairs.</p><p> </p><p>"Not now, Tim," Barbara barked, fingers flying across her keyboard.  "I'm in the middle of…"</p><p> </p><p>"Alfred's taking Bruce to the hospital," Tim interrupted breathlessly.  "He's not looking good at all."</p><p> </p><p>"Crud monkeys!"  Continuing to type, Barbara said, "Okay, I'm wrapping this up."</p><p> </p><p>In the nearby medical bay area, Jean Paul sat up in his bed.  "Tim?"</p><p> </p><p>The teenager glanced over and then approached the injured man.  "Yeah?"</p><p> </p><p>"Bring me a few things and I'll be fine until Cassandra gets back.  You and Barbara can go…"</p><p> </p><p>"No, man!  We can't leave you here alone.  You can't even stand up or walk."</p><p> </p><p>"I'll be fine.  Bruce needs you more."</p><p> </p><p>"JP, we're not…"</p><p> </p><p>"Get me a phone, a few crackers, and plenty of water.  I'll be good."  Jean Paul ignored the protest on Tim's face.  "I promise, Tim."  Glancing at the levels in his IV bags, Jean Paul added, "Get some extra medicine, a syringe with saline solution, and I can take care of that when the time comes."</p><p> </p><p>Barbara approached, worry in her eyes.  "One of us can stay."</p><p> </p><p>"All I'm doing is sleeping mostly.  Besides, I'm a big boy.  Bruce isn't.  Go take care of him."  With a pleading look, Jean Paul said, "Let me do this for him.  He took care of me when I needed help.  It's the least I can do for him."</p><p> </p><p>"Cassie is on her way.  She'll be here within the hour," Barbara said.  She leaned over and placed a sisterly kiss on the injured man's cheek.  "Don't hesitate to call.  Rest well, Bright Eyes."  After gathering up the requested items, Barbara and Tim made their way upstairs.</p><p> </p><p>***********</p><p> </p><p>Swooping down from the fire escape, Batman easily knocked out the fleeing gunman.</p><p> </p><p>"That makes thirteen for you.  But I'm three ahead," Roy bragged, as he approached his friend.</p><p> </p><p>Batman's eyes narrowed.  "Three?  By my count, we're even now.  How do you figure you're ahead?  And you are not counting the old lady you rescued from jay walking on Miller Avenue."</p><p> </p><p>Roy crossed his arms and muttered, "I still think small crimes should count."  When Batman continued to glare, Roy grumbled, "Okay, fine!  Then I'm two ahead."</p><p> </p><p>"What other two?" Batman asked, bending to cuff the gunman who was still out cold.</p><p> </p><p>Roy pointed down the alley.  "He had two accomplices."</p><p> </p><p>Blinking at the unconscious thugs tied to a nearby dumpster, Batman shook his head and growled, "I didn't even see them."</p><p> </p><p>"Don't be so hard on yourself.  You've got a lot going on right now.  It's understandable if you're a little distracted," Roy empathized.</p><p> </p><p>"Distracted gets you or someone else killed, Roy!"  Slamming a fist into his palm, Batman determined, "I've got to do better than that.  <em>He</em> would have never missed those two."</p><p> </p><p>"Dick…" Roy started.</p><p> </p><p>"Batman!" the Dark Knight corrected in a ferocious whisper.</p><p> </p><p>"Look bro, I know this is not a game we're playing," Roy said.  "This is serious stuff.  Life and death.  But we're just human.  We've got to allow wiggle room for mistakes.  And you are not <em>him</em>!"</p><p> </p><p>Batman sighed.  "Wiggle room?  I used to think so, Roy.  Really, I did.  But now I've got a legacy to uphold.  I can't drop the ball—not now.  Not ever!  I've got to keep going for Bruce."</p><p> </p><p>Before Roy could respond, gunfire sounded a few blocks away.</p><p> </p><p>Batman shot a line to the nearest rooftop and was gone in an instant, leaving Roy alone in the dark alley.  Shaking his head, the archer muttered, "I've got my work cut out for me."</p><p> </p><p>************</p><p> </p><p>In order to accommodate everyone comfortably, Alfred drove the limo toward the hospital.  Barbara sat in the backseat next to Bruce, who rested his head against her side.  Tim and Lian sat across from them.</p><p> </p><p>"Did you forget to wash your hands?" Lian asked suddenly, giving Bruce a worried stare.</p><p> </p><p>Bruce slowly shook his head in the negative.</p><p> </p><p>"Uncle Wally says that you might get sick if you don't wash your hands and kill all the germs."</p><p> </p><p>Tim struggled to suppress a smile.  "Bart told me Wally's a germophobe."</p><p> </p><p>Barbara nodded.  "I've heard the same."  Turning to the little girl, she said, "Sometimes we get sick no matter how many times we wash our hands, Lian.  It's just a part of life."</p><p> </p><p>Closing his eyes, Bruce tried his best to wish himself well.  The pounding in his head brought tears to his eyes.  The burning in his chest made it hurt to breathe.  He opened his mouth to say something, but could find no voice.  It scared him.  Tugging on Barbara's sleeve, he got her attention.  Bruce tried mouthing the words, but another coughing spell hit him.</p><p> </p><p>"It's okay, Bruce," Barbara soothed, pulling the boy closer to her.</p><p> </p><p>Settling uneasily into the embrace, the little boy felt small comfort in a car full of people he no longer recognized.</p><p> </p><p>To be continued…</p>
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